No Forgiveness
by wildfire-sky05
Summary: This fanfic follows after FFVII: Advent Children…the disease Geostigma has not been diminished as thought, and now it has taken on a greater potency. There is a cure, but is Cloud willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to get it? Rating subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

_**No Forgiveness**_

_**By: Wildfire Sky**_

_This is my first Final Fantasy fanfic, but not, by far, my first fic ever. I saw the movie, was deeply impressed, and decided to try and branch out from Gundam Wing and Rurouni Kenshin fanfics into the realm of video games. Hope you enjoy it as much as I'll enjoy writing it! If you'd like to be a beta reader, please send me a message!_

_This fanfic follows after FFVII: Advent Children…the disease Geostigma has not been diminished as thought, and now it has taken on a greater potency. There is a cure…but is Cloud willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to get it?_

_**A/N: **Warnings for language and violence. Reviews welcomed always._

_**No Forgiveness**_

_**Chapter One

* * *

**_

Tifa raised the glass to the dirty sunlight filtering into the 7th Heaven, examining the recently cleaned glass for any streaks or smudges. With a satisfied nod, she handed the glass down to the eagerly waiting hands next to her and reached for another. Marlene clasped the glass tightly as she rushed over to where the blonde, spike haired Cloud stood just behind and to the right of Tifa, assisted Denzel in putting away the glasses. The fighter had actually managed to stay for more than a few days this time, his stay extended for just over a week. Tifa glanced at him from the corner of her eye, watching as he gently plucked the glass from Marlene's hands and placed it among the rest on the counter. He had her paranoid…it couldn't be denied. Every night she stayed awake, listening for his footsteps when he'd finally leave her and go back to doing…whatever it was he did. He never left without some sort of hint, more of a courtesy to her than anything else, but still she couldn't help but think he'd been there one moment, and gone the next without any warning.

"Tifa?"

She blinked, realizing that Cloud had been returning her heated stare for quite sometime, Denzel and Marlene ignorant to it all as they continued putting away the glasses. Sharp aqua-blue stared at her, slightly narrowed in their observation, the owner patiently waiting for an explanation. Blushing inwardly, Tifa turned quickly returned to what she was doing. He didn't need to know that he made her nervous…it might be taken the wrong way and then he'd _really_ leave. Tifa turned to hand Marlene the glass, only to see her and Denzel dashing out of the bar and into the busy city.

_Damn it all to hell…_

Tifa sighed, turning and brushing past an unmoving Cloud to put the glass away herself. "Those two…they always want to play and not do anything around here."

Cloud's eyes followed her. "Tifa…"

"Cloud, hand me that plate on the counter will you?"

The fighter paused, considering her even as he hand moved to comply. "What's the matter with you?"

There was a small laugh. "Nothing's wrong with me Cloud…glass please."

Cloud tossed it over and Tifa plucked it expertly from the air. She didn't want to talk…that much was obvious. Moving closer to her he put a hand on her arm and forced her to turn and look at him. Reluctantly, Tifa turned, her eyes sliding over his face briefly before looking away and glancing towards the door then lowering. He felt a tiny shudder pass through her body as she removed her arm from his insistent grasp.

"Tifa." Cloud frowned at her. What was the matter? Even as he tried to approach again, Tifa shied away quickly moving towards the tables scattered about the bar with a broom, never glancing in his direction as she began to sweep, the dust billowing in small puffs around her feet. He walked over with a small dustpan, kneeling down in front of her so she might sweep up the dirt and grime. The broom hesitated in its forward progress before obediently scooting the waste into the dustpan. Even as Cloud moved the pan further back so she could sweep up the remnants, the broom didn't move from the floor. Slowly, his slid his blue eyes upwards until he was staring up into her reserved look.

"Why are you here?" Tifa demanded, the broom still griped in her hands.

He blinked, looking around to see if someone had entered without his knowing. Finding the bar empty he looked back up at Tifa, utterly confused. "What?"

"I said…" Tifa took a deep breath, her grip tightening, "Why are you _here_, Cloud? You've never stayed this long before and I was wondering why you hadn't left yet."

Cloud stared. Was that why she'd been so uptight earlier? "Is that what's bothering you?" He stood up, moving to the trashcan and dumping the pan's contents.

"Yes."

Cloud walked back towards her, brushing by with a quick: "Well don't let it." He tossed the dustpan on the counter and moved to the back stairs leading up to the second floor. His heavy boots clomped loudly across the woodworks, confident and proud…Cloud's walk. It was a distinguishing stride that left no room for wondering. He was defined by the way he held himself and no one could deny who or what he was…it was an attractive trait.

Tifa watched him leave, listening as he stomped across the hallway overhead, small particles of dust dislodging from the ceiling and falling down around her. _So much for sweeping…_she thought to herself, leaning the broom against the far wall.

It didn't matter. As soon as Denzel and Marlene returned, they'd be covered in dirt and the bar would go back to being just as dirty. Replacing the dustpan, she knelt down behind the bar in front of a small safe built into the counter. Reaching for the dial, with a few quick flicks of her wrist, she pulled open the thick door and reached for the long leather money pouch inside. Her eyes barely looked at the small handgun next to it, pulling out the pouch and sliding the folds of gil inside. She could fight, yes, but it was always a good idea to have an extra weapon around…just in case.

The high-pitched sound of a ring caused her to look up and towards the stairs. Once…twice…the third ring was abruptly cut off as Cloud answered, his words made incoherent by the wood floor separating them. Replacing the money book and closing the safe, Tifa made her way over to the stairs, pausing at the bottom and listening to the conversation above. It was another delivery no doubt…something to take Cloud away again for weeks on end.

"To the Outer Banks? I didn't realize people still lived there…" Cloud was speaking. "No, it's not a problem. When do you need it by...I can make that, but it'll be tight…No, I charge for both ways, delivery and pick-up…Fine, I'll be there. Thanks."

Tifa closed her eyes and leaned her shoulder against the wall. So this is it then. He was finally leaving, and all the way to the Outer Banks…so far across the continent. It was a week's trip there at least, and that was without stopping. She turned her forehead against the wood grain, inhaling a shaky sigh. Denzel would be so disappointed and she hated trying to calm him down whenever Cloud left for these extended periods of time.

"It won't take me long."

Tifa turned to look at him disapprovingly. "You're going to the Outer Banks, Cloud. It'll take a long time." She smiled softly at the strained look that crossed the ex-SOLDIER's face. "Don't fret, Cloud…you told me not to worry, so I won't. I trust you to come back." _Eventually…_

She didn't need to add that last part. They both knew what she was thinking and they both knew it was true. Nearly half a year had passed since Kadaji and his gang had been defeated, and Cloud had only been around for two months of that…total. His stays were in short bursts, this last one being the longest. It was disappointing, but inevitable. They both had businesses to run, and the name was _Strife_ Delivery Services…not Lockheart. He was his own boss, and she could only influence his decisions to stay or go.

"All good things must come to an end, as the saying goes…" Tifa said, moving up the stairs. "I only wish that this good thing didn't have to end so soon with your leaving." She stopped a step below the landing, staring up at Cloud. "Just be careful alright? I've heard about the Outer Banks and lately…"

"I know about that as well." Cloud interrupted, giving a stiff nod. "I can handle it. If they want to pick a fight, let them."

Tifa pressed her lips into a thin line. Confidence was good, but being _over_ confident was dangerous. In the past few months, the tiny region called the Outer Banks, which lay in the peninsula just off of Fort Condor, had been invaded by droves of infidels, criminals, and gangs escaping from Midgard, turning what had at one time been a vacation destination into a haven for violence and crime. When it'd become a threat, the government had bombed one of the cities there, leaving nothing but ruin and a ghost town. People still came, mostly for militaristic exercises every now and then, but they couldn't keep the ever-dangerous warlords from having their fun with those passing through.

But if Cloud wanted to ignore the dangers…well, there wasn't much she could do about it was there? Giving a slight shake of her head, Tifa moved past. "Fine then. Do what you want."

Cloud turned at her sharp tone, his eyebrows lowering. "Tifa, wait a minute…"

Tifa held up a hand, continuing to walk. "I'm tired, Cloud. I'll see you when you get back in two weeks."

"I'll be back before then!" Cloud insisted, wincing slightly as the door to the room slammed closed. He'd have to be dumb as a brick not to see she was pissed at him. Why he didn't understand. What had he done wrong? Cloud quickly ran through everything he'd done today. Got up. Washed. Got Dressed. Got Denzel and Marlene up, washed, and dressed. Ate breakfast. Helped Tifa at the bar. Helped clean up the bar. Went up stairs and answered the phone. Took job. Pissed off Tifa.

Somewhere in there he'd made a serious miscalculation in Tifa's attitude. Was it because he'd told her not to worry about him she was so mad? Or was it because of the job? Or was it because of both? Maybe neither? Maybe he just had it coming.

_Or maybe you should stop standing here and go talk to her damn it!_ His mind screamed in frustration. Cloud told it to shut-up…he needed to think through this. If Tifa was pissed, he didn't want to just go in there and say something that screws him further…plus, he added with a shiver, she might have a weapon or something. Taking a deep breath, Cloud turned on his heel and slowly approached the door. It was open a crack and he peered through cautiously as he opened it, ready to dodge whatever came flying at him.

He expected to see a fuming Tifa burning holes in walls and playing with the tips of her hair, a nervous habit she'd picked up sometime ago. Instead, the sight that greeted him was that of Tifa on her side, her head cradled in the nook of her arm and her eyes closed in a relaxed state. Slowly, Cloud approached the sleeping girl, silently cursing his loud boots as they caused the floorboards to creak. Kneeling down, Cloud observed her sleeping body, running an appreciatory look over it. No man could deny she had an attractive body, he'd seen the lustful stares of men at the bar, but for him to even consider what they dreamed of…was like betraying the memory of Aeris. It left him filled with want, but also disgust in himself.

Reaching out, he hesitated a moment before gently brushing away a few strands of hair from her face. He needed to go, the trip was long as it is, but to leave Tifa in such a distressed state…well, the fact of the matter was he wanted to be welcomed back with open arms like he always was. Like she always did.

"I thought you were leaving."

Cloud jerked his hand away, his face burning as he quickly stood. "Sorry…I didn't mean to wake you up."

Tifa opened her eyes but didn't look at him, just his at his feet. "I was barely asleep anyways. I was hoping to hear one of those midnight apologies that people do in the movies." She shrugged one shoulder. "But I wasn't counting on it."

_Ouch_. Cloud thought with an inner wince. _That was a sucker punch right below the belt._ "I'm about to leave now…I just wanted to---"

"Don't apologize, Cloud."

"You're mad at me." Cloud looked away. "And I'm sorry about it."

Tifa sat up on her elbow, finally looking into his eyes. "Are you sorry about making me mad or because you're leaving again?"

Cloud blinked. _Damn it…what's the right answer?_ He hated playing these 'women' games! "Because I made you mad?" he guessed nervously.

The dark look that fell over her face told him that yes, he had officially screwed himself. Cloud lowered his head, waiting for whatever verbal abuse he had coming. It wasn't necessarily that she would yell at him, but Tifa had a way of speaking that made you fell like you were two years old, getting caught eating cookies before dinner. He heard her shift in bed.

"It's fine, Cloud. This is what you do and it's fine with me." Tifa sighed, a slow exhale, "Someday, Cloud, you'll realize how foolish all of this is, your constant running. You have a home…a family, or friends at least, people who care about you. And yet, you run away from all of these good things. Whatever you're looking for, it's not just hurting you…"

Cloud didn't answer. What was he going to say? That she was wrong when she was undoubtedly right? If he wanted to get to his destination on time, he had to go. Now. Approaching Tifa, he knelt down, reaching out and running a hand down her cheek. "Wait for me…" she looked away. "Please, Tifa…wait for me and forgive me." Standing he strode quickly to the door. "Tell the children that I promise to come back soon."

"I know the routine."

Cloud's body gave a small jerk before he nodded and left the room, gently closing the door behind him. As soon as the door closed, Tifa finally broke down, slamming her fist against the mattress. The entire frame shook as she pounded into it over and over again, venting her frustrations on the inanimate object. This was getting old…

* * *

Denzel clutched Marlene's hand in his own as they walked down the crowded streets of Midgar, making their way home before the sun settled behind the towering ruins of former skyscrapers and massive frames of what used to be buildings. Marlene held a cup of chocolate ice cream in her hand; a gift from Denzel with the little pocket money Tifa gave him at the beginning of each week to spend as he wanted. Now they were heading home to a warm dinner and bed as well as endless enjoyment with Cloud and Tifa. He couldn't believe how long Cloud had stayed…it was like an early birthday present! All those times he stood by the front windows, staring out and looking for Cloud, now he wouldn't have to anymore. Maybe tomorrow Cloud would take him for a ride outside the city, or maybe to a park, or maybe to the market to look at the cool things the vendors placed out. There was so much to do…

"Denzel…" Marlene tugged at his sleeve, "Cloud said he was staying, right?"

The young boy nodded, his wispy hair fluttering in the slight breeze. "He promised he would this time." He looked up, seeing the sign of the 7th Heaven in the distance. "Come on! Last one home is a loser!"

He dropped Marlene's hand and made a dash for home. Setting her face in a tight frown, Marlene refused to go chasing after the boy, instead composing her dignity and following at a brisk pace, insuring that while she might not be the first one home, she would certainly not be the least composed.

Denzel dodged around the various people still occupying the streets with briefs shouts of 'excuse me' and 'sorry pops!' His eyes were wide with excitement, his breath coming in short spurts as he slowed to a jog, glancing behind him for Marlene. Spotting her he raised a hand and beckoned for her to hurry. Rather than comply, Marlene simply stuck out her tongue and continued at her set pace. Denzel scowled at her and began walking towards the bar, his hands shoved in his pockets. As much as he wanted to come bursting through the doors and tackle Cloud, he and Tifa would most likely scold him for leaving Marlene out in the streets alone. Kicking at a stone, he paused just outside the front door, impatiently waiting on his smaller, younger charge.

"Why do you do that?" he demanded angrily as Marlene finally came within speaking distance and stopped next to him.

The young girl scooped up another spoonful of her frozen treat, holding it in front of Denzel temptingly. "Because I didn't want to spill my ice cream." She smiled. "Want some?"

Grudgingly, Denzel glanced at the tempting food before opening his mouth and allowing Marlene to guide the slowly melting ice cream inside. Closing his mouth and using his tongue to scoop it up, Denzel couldn't help but return Marlene's carefree smile. Ice cream was the best cure for unhappiness.

"Let's go inside," Denzel said, placing a hand on Marlene's shoulder, "Cloud's probably waiting for us."

Marlene nodded, holding up her half empty cup. "We can give him some!" She turned to open the door, but before she could move, it opened itself, revealing a disheveled looking Cloud. For a moment, they stood there staring at each other, the children's faces filled with confusion.

"Cloud?" Denzel said in a low voice, staring up at his hero. Then, his eyes fell on the traveling bag and keys held in Cloud's hand, and his heart plummeted. "Cloud…where are you going…?"

Cloud shifted, moving past Denzel and around the side of the building. Denzel released a still confused Marlene, trotting in front of Cloud and hopping backwards in order to look at his face. Cloud refused to look down at him, his eyes locked on Fenrin and escape. If Tifa could barely deal with Denzel, how could he?

"Cloud! Where are you going?" Denzel demanded again, the panic growing. "You're not leaving again are you? Wait! Let me get my stuff, I'll come with you!"

Cloud continued to stride towards Fenrin. "You stay here with Tifa and Marlene and watch them while I'm gone."

"No!" Denzel said, watching painfully as Cloud mounted his bike. "Tifa can watch Marlene, just let me come with you this once. Please?"

Cloud backed his bike out from the alley as Denzel walked along side, still trying to convince Cloud to let him come. The ex-SOLDIER sighed inwardly. _No wonder Tifa hates this…_Cloud started the engine, slipping on his riding goggles. He glanced toward where Marlene stood, a cup of something in her hand and tears streaming down her face. The cup slipped from her lax grasp, toppling to the ground and spilling the now melted ice cream across the ground. Without a word, she rushed into the 7th Heaven, wet drops of tears plummeting to the ground. It took everything in Cloud's will not to jump off his bike and rush in after her to apologize.

Denzel moved into his line of vision, quickly following after the distressed Marlene. He tossed a final look over his shoulder, raising his hand in an obedient wave before entering the bar and closing the door after him. Cloud sighed again. Maybe he should stop coming home…

_Or stop leaving._

Cloud shook his blonde covered head. He would deal with it all later. Right now, he had a business to run.

* * *

_And that's the end of chapter one! Please tell me if you liked this…or if I made you puke all over yourself. If you think I don't have what it takes to be a FF7 writer, then by all means tell me…but if you think I do…that's nice to hear as well._

_It is my firm belief that ice cream is the cure-all for anger. Trust me on this…if you piss off your best friend or whatever; take them to get ice cream. Everything, and I mean **everything**¸ will be completely forgotten about! Works on parents too. Failed a test? Say: "Lets have some ice cream!" and enjoy your precious freedom!_

_**Remember to read and review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**No Forgiveness**_

_**By: Wildfire Sky**_

_Hum…not as big of a response for the first chapter…but that's to be expected considering I'm not even known in the Games section. Oh well, at least I've gotten two reviews, means it's worth something to someone._

_**No Forgiveness**_

_**Chapter Two

* * *

**_

Fenrir thundered across the desert ground outside of Midgar, kicking up a trail of dust from its overly enlarged tired. It carelessly bounded over the rough terrain, its sole occupant easily riding it as though they were on even ground. Cloud glanced at the carrying bag slung over one shoulder, wondering about the strange looking box inside. When he'd picked it up, an old man wearing glasses had answered the door, his body bent and gray eyes down cast, unable to make contact. Cloud had immediately had a strange feeling about him, especially when the old man spoke and he didn't recognize the voice as that from the phone call. But the package had been handed over without confrontation, the payment given in full for both the pick up and delivery. In all honesty, he could dump the package right now and claim it'd been stolen…but such dishonesty couldn't be found within his heart.

So now, here he was, on a weeklong venture to a place known for extreme danger and violence. It was a good thing he'd been trained so well.

Cloud had been tempted to ask who or what in the Outer Banks was so important that the old man was willing to throw away the safety of a complete stranger in order to have it delivered…but the man didn't look like he was willing to give up any information voluntarily. In fact, as soon as Cloud had been handed the package and payment, the door slammed closed and was locked from the inside, the overhead porch light snapping off in a signal for him to leave.

Overhead, the moonlight beamed down, illuminating the desert floor over which he drove. He would drive straight through, not stopping for anything. He could eat and drive at the same time; he'd done it before. Cloud revved the throttle, kicking the bike into a higher gear.

The tiny container bounced against his side, safe from the wind, dust, and bugs, drawing his thoughts back to the old man. For some reason, he seemed very familiar…like they'd met somewhere before. But where, or rather, when had it happened? He had a knack for remembering faces and places, so the realization that he couldn't place this one unnerved him.

Engulfed in his thoughts, Cloud's mind wandered from the road, and he never saw the old truck until he was mere feet from hitting it, its headlights engulfing him in its bright rays. They both swerved, the truck slamming on the brakes and skidding to one side, while Fenrir toppled on its side, depositing Cloud to the ground at top speed, the young man's body bouncing across the ground before they both came to a stop.

For a moment, there was no movement. Cloud lay on the ground shaking off the impact, the driver of the truck remaining inside. Finally, the truck door was kicked open and a large bearded man stepped forth, his muscles rippling as he slammed his door closed and approached the grounded Cloud. Slowly Cloud rolled over into a sitting position, wiping the dirt from his face and searching the ground for his riding goggles. Standing up, Cloud glanced at the towering man as he lumbered over, his face hard and angry. Trying to avoid a pending confrontation, Cloud hoisted Fenrir upright, casting the still approaching man a quick nod.

"Sorry about that."

The man snorted angrily. "Damn right you are, kid. What the hell is wrong with you, driving like that at night?"

Cloud frowned and turned away, checking his bike for damages. "I said I was sorry. No one was hurt, right? So let's just leave it at that."

The large bearded man cocked an eyebrow, curious at Cloud's calm state of mind. With a shake of his head, the man clamped a hand down on Cloud's shoulder, feeling the boy give a slight jerk. The blonde head snapped around, leveling a hard glare at him. Slightly fazed, the large man bent down and picked up Cloud's traveling pack. But when Cloud grabbed for it, he didn't relinquish his ownership immediately.

"Look kid, I don't know where you're going in such a hurry, but if you're not careful, you're liable to get someone killed." He leaned forward menacingly. "And I suggest you put off that cocky attitude of yours. Someone might not take it so lightly next time, got it?"

Cloud easily held the man's stare, holding out an impatient hand. "My pack, please?"

Eyes narrowing, the large man retreated a few steps, still holding the bag. Curious as to what the boy was carrying, he flipped open the top flap and began to reach inside, eyes never leaving Cloud's face. As he began to open the pack, a strange smell rose to his nostrils. Bending closer, he inhaled slowly and deeply, trying the place the odor. A powerful burst caused him to snort in agitation a burning, itching sensation washing over his sinuses.

Suddenly, he found himself on his back, the wind knocked out of him. The large man stared up at Cloud in shock, his chest heaving as he gulped in air. "What…the hell…kid?"

Cloud snatched up his traveling pack, striding back to his bike. "This isn't yours to snoop around in, sir." His step wavered slightly as the strange odor hit him as well, his eyes watering and nose burning. Shaking his head, Cloud tried to ward off the feeling to no avail.

"I don't think you should be carrying that around, kid." The man rolled up, his eyes wavering on the traveling pack and then moving up to Cloud's face. "It's not safe." Cloud frowned again before turning and straddling Fenrir, throwing the bike into gear. The man struggled to his feet, his hand outstretched in an attempt to stop him. "Wait a minute! You shouldn't…"

But Fenrir was already gone.

With a sigh, the man slumped back down, his body tired. "Son of a bitch…" he grumbled. Casting about a short glance, he came to his feet once more, slowly dragging his exhausted body back towards his truck. Leaning heavily against it, he wondered briefly at this sudden fatigue, quickly attributing it with the vicious punch delivered by the boy. Pulling open the truck door, he started the engine and laid back in the seat, closing his eyes for a brief reprieve. What the hell was wrong with him? He'd been in fights before, but none had left him feeling so worn out!

The man sucked in air, filling his lungs with precious oxygen. He opened his eyes and gave a short start, looking down at the dashboard. Everything was a blur…he could barely make out the brightly lit numbers and symbols. Blinking rapidly, the man brought up a hand to his eyes, trying to wipe away whatever was affecting his vision. But nothing seemed to work.

"Doctor…" he mumbled, his words coming out slow, "I need to see a doctor…"

Putting the truck into gear, he pulled away from the rocky outcroppings, slowing making his way towards the bright lights of Midgar. "No more drinkin' for me!" he joked to himself with a tiny laugh. Trying to squint through the haze, he silently hoped he'd be able to make it home safely.

* * *

The next morning, the 7th Heaven was shockingly full…something that rarely happened on a weekday. Recruiting the help of Denzel and a young female neighbor, Tifa struggled to make her way through the flood of loud, rambunctious men who filled the bar to near capacity. Balancing a tray of drinks on one hand, Tifa expertly scooped up a pile of gils and moved aside as Denzel quickly bused the table, picking up the glasses and wiping it down moments before another group of men sat down. Right behind him came her hired help, taking their orders and moving back to the bar to fill it. Placing down her drinks, Tifa smiled at the men as they thanked her.

"I guess there must be some sort of celebration today." She said, trying to strike up conversation. It may be a full house, but there was no reason for her to go around without some idea of why. "So what's going on? Birthday party…wedding…"

One of the men blinked at her. "Ain't you been listening, Tiff? It's all over town!"

Tifa raising an eyebrow. "No, what's happened?"

Another of the group spoke, his face disbelieving. "The Shin-ra Company…they're starting to hire men for hard labor jobs, you know, construction and stuff."

Tifa felt her blood go cold. _Shin-ra…_

"Yea, I hear that they're paying three hundred gil a week!" the other said, his face full of excitement. "A _week_! That would bring Midgar out of this hell of a depression, don't you think?"

"Worst one in over sixty years. Planet did it, ya know. Ruined everything, even our lives, am I right Tiff?"

But Tifa was lost in her own world. Moving away from them, she walked back to the bar deep in thought. The Shin-ra Company…Reno had said they were going to rebuild again, but she'd thought it was nothing more than a ploy to get Cloud to agree to become another hired gun. She'd hoped it wasn't true. So much evil had been associated with them…so much pain and heartache. In her mind, the resurrection of such terror should be hated, not embraced, by the people…and yet, here they were, hundreds cycling in and out of her bar, celebrating the revival of her misery.

What had gone wrong with the world?

The bell rang again, a familiar sound at this point, yet this time a round of cheers accompanied it. Glancing up from the bar counter, Tifa's gazed locked on to a familiar, beaming face as he moved through the crowd with a half-smile. Approaching the counter he sat down in front of Tifa, giving her a tight nod.

"Mornin' Tifa." He said, scratching at his dark beard, "The usual please."

Tifa set it on the counter, having already prepared it as soon as she saw him. "There you are, Barren. How's things today?"

The large man smirked, raising a hand to scratch at his eye. "Ah…could be better I suppose. Nearly ran some kid over last night and my eyes were really bothering me…could barely drive yesterday night." He lowered his hand with a tiny smirk. "But it's better now, see? Things are still a little fuzzy but, heh, whatever. You probably don't want to here about this anyways."

In all honesty, Tifa really didn't. She hadn't been listening at all, being too busy with the other customers and keeping an eye on Denzel as he darted from table to table. She'd specifically told Marlene to stay upstairs while business was so heavy, but there was always a slight chance the young girl would ignore her and come down anyways, simply looking for company. Company Tifa couldn't offer right now.

"Attention boys!" came a call from the center of the room. Everyone fell silent, turning towards the speaker who now stood on top of a chair, half full glass in hand. "I would like to recognize a very important person here today…a man whose 'wonderful' personality…" this got a few laughs, "…has given all of us the chance at a new life by taking on the Shin-ra Company and getting us all great new jobs. Here's to you Barren, the toughest bastard among us!"

There was another loud uproar of cheering as Barren stood to acknowledgement, raising his own glass to the whoops and yells of his companions. As he moved into the crowd, Tifa absently noted the slight sway in his step, not unlike a small limp. As he turned round to shake hands and toast with his friends, she saw that his eyes were taking on a red hue, specks of discharge forming at the corners of his eyes. She blinked. Had she made the drink too strong? Even if she had, a few sips should have had such a sudden affect on a man like Barren.

Tifa's hired girl was pushed into Barren's arms, a small, forced smile on her lips as she was pressed against him. The large man grinned as his hand slipped towards her bottom and gave a squeeze. The girl's smile dropped from her face and she sent a pleading look in Tifa's direction before she was engulfed by the laughing men surrounding her. Shaking her head, Tifa sighed. Leaving the poor girl out there with Barren was a bad idea…leaving her out there with a horde of drunken men as a worse idea. Desperate times called for quick thinking.

"All right guys!" she called out at the top of her lungs. "Let her go and drinks are on the house!"

Almost instantly, the young waitress found herself at the bar, nearly thrown over it as the men cheered wildly. Tifa glanced at the clock. Only four more hours of this…

"Tifa!" there was a gasp as Denzel literally popped out from between the legs of men, scurrying over to where his caretaker stood behind the safety of the counter. "Tifa, this is crazy!"

The young waitress nodded her agreement. "What's got them so excited, Tifa?"

Tifa shook her head again. "Apparently Shin-ra is rebuilding again and they've hired all of these men for hard labor."

"Really?" the young girl glanced at the crowd. "How much are the paying?"

"Three hundred gil a week."

The girl's eyes went wide. "Three hundred gil a _week_? My goodness…I'd be excited too!"

Denzel nodded his head rapidly, tossing his towel onto the back counter. "I'm going to sign up with Shin-ra, too, Tifa! See ya later!"

He barely got two steps before he was hauled back by the cuff of his shirt and deposited next to Tifa. "Not a chance, Denzel." She stated firmly, with a glare. "Why don't you go upstairs and keep Marlene company until we're finished?"

For a moment, it looked like the young orphan was going to protest, but another harsh glare in his direction cut off all arguments and he truffed his way back through the crowds and up the back stairs. Barren pushed back to the front of the bar, smiling oily at the young waitress and then turning to Tifa.

"Mind fixin' me another drink, Tiff? I don't know what you put in the last one, but damn was it powerful!"

Tifa furrowed her forehead. "Barren, I didn't do anything different from any other time."

"Aw, don't be so modest, sweetheart! You make a kick ass drink, that's why I come here all the time. That and your beautiful face."

"Don't you have a wife?"

"Please. You call that raging bitch a wife? I'd associate her more with the devil than anything else. Here, fix me up alright, kiddo?"

Tifa looked hard at him. Sweat was beginning to run down the sides of his face, his collar soaked in the fluid. His eyes were now a dark red, the discharge visibly growing in the corners of his eyes even as he wiped it away. His chest was heaving, the thick veins in his neck popping out and pulsating with his rapid heartbeat, and his face had become pale. Barren ran the back of his hand across his eyes again, sniffling.

"Jeeze it's hot in here, Tiff…might turning up the fans for me?"

The fans were already at full blast. Barren stood up from the bar, pulling at his collar. It may have been a trick of the light, but it looked as though a dark bruise was forming around Barren's neck, rapidly spreading before her eyes.

"Barren…" she started, coming around the bar, "Are you alright?"

The large man sent her a dazed look, his body swaying from side to side. "Tifa…don't know what wrong…head hurt bad…" his words were slurred, unintelligible, "Sit me down…drink need more." He stumbled again, this time backing into a table and knocking off the contents. The owners jumped up, turning an angry look on Barren.

"Hey!"

Suddenly, before Tifa could move, Barren pitched forward and threw up all over the floor. The people around him scampered back, staring as Barren hurled violently, his body shaking with every vicious heave. Tifa held a hand to her mouth and nose, the smell was powerful…even overwhelming. Instantly, the men in the bar rushed out in panic, leaving their drinks behind as they backpedaled outside. Barren continued to throw-up, his eyes and face tight with pain as red, frothed liquid came pouring from his mouth. He wasn't throwing up food or drink, Tifa realized in horror. He was throwing up blood…nothing but blood.

The pool was spreading around him as Barren collapsed to his hands and knees, blood starting to stream from the corners of his eyes, nose, and ears. Even as the flow of blood pouring from his mouth abated, Barren began to cough, sending small flecks of blood into the small pool before him. Tifa turned to the terrified looking helper. The girl was wringing her hands anxiously, her body held in a stance that signaled a wanting to bolt for the door.

"Quickly, go find a doctor." Tifa ordered, relived that her voice wasn't shaking as badly as she expected. "Barren needs medical attention, right now!"

The girl glanced at her and then at the kneeling Barren. "But…I don't know any…"

Tifa glared at her, grabbed her arm and nearly throwing her towards the door. "Go!"

As the girl scampered towards the exit, Tifa felt a hard tug on her pant's leg. Glancing down, she saw Barren's blood soaked hand wrapped in the material, pulling at it insistently. He lifted his head, his face laced with pain as he struggled to breath. "Please…help me…"

Tifa knelt down so she was eye level with Barren. "Don't worry, we're getting help Barren. Just hang on, alright?"

There was a noise behind her and Tifa turned, spotting Denzel and Marlene standing just inside the stairwell doorway. Marlene was cowering behind a shocked Denzel, her own face squished in confusion and disgust as she stared at the large Barren. Slowly, Marlene's brown eyes slid up to Tifa's face, seeking explanation.

"T-Tifa…"

Her name spurred Tifa into action. Sending a sharp look at Denzel she barked out: "Get her upstairs!"

Denzel's eyes snapped upright, staring at Tifa in brief confusion. He wasn't registering what she was saying…he was in shock.

"_Denzel_!" Tifa said again, her voice sharp in her attempt to break through to him, "Denzel, take Marlene upstairs and keep her there!"

Denzel flinched, his eyes wide. "But…Tifa…"

"Denzel, do not argue with me." She wanted to stand, but Barren's iron like grip kept her exactly where she was. His hands were clenching against her black clothing, leaving dark streaks against the leg and running down the front of her leg as his hand slid down. Tifa shivered, trying to adjust her leg away from him. Barren groaned again, crimson blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. He looked up at her, a tiny, pained smile crossing his features.

"S-Sorry about your floor…Tiff…"

And he passed out.

* * *

"Well, to say the least, he's lucky Tifa."

The old man pushed up his tiny, spherical glasses further up his nose, his small eyes darting back and forth as he turned towards where Tifa stood just inside the entrance of 7th Heaven, her arms crossed in front of her anxiously. Denzel, Marlene, and the young hired girl stood just behind her, watching as a group of medics picked up Barren's unconscious body onto a stretcher and lowered it into the back of the medical truck. The old man shook his head as the truck sped off towards the clinic.

"He's in a very sorry state." The doctor shook his head again. "Very very sorry…a few minutes longer and I dare say he wouldn't have made it." He smiled gently at Tifa's stressed expression. "Don't worry my dear. A few days under my care and he'll be right as new!"

Tifa released the breath she'd subconsciously been holding. "You're sure?"

The old doctor reached out, giving her arm a small pat. The man was a full six inches shorter than her, barely coming up to her chest. His wispy gray hair fluttering in the wind, as it wasn't kept back in its usual ponytail. Doctor Artese, who preferred not to be addressed by his title, but just his name, had assisted Tifa with the orphans whenever they became sick or injured. He was a saint to her, and to most of the children, seeing as he brought candy with him every time he paid a visit. Although Tifa usually didn't have enough money to pay him in full, he had a running tab at the 7th Heaven, so in the end, everything worked out for the both of them.

But right now, nothing seemed to be working in Tifa's favor. The ambulance long gone, Tifa moved back into the bar, Denzel and the others quickly scooting apart to let her through. Artese quickly followed, his short legs rapidly moving across the floor in what can only be described as short sprints (although he insisted he was walking) as he approached the countered and lifted his short body onto one of the stools. Tifa absent-mindedly took out a glass, preparing to pour his usual cold beer until he held up a hand.

"No no, my dear…not this time. I'll have water, if you will." Artese had a particular, proper way of speaking. Even when the children were misbehaving he remained calm and quiet, simply asking that she or Cloud assist in holding the children down while he administered whatever care was necessary. He was…something else…

Tifa placed the order on the counter, leaning against it and watching him. Something was always bothering Artese whenever he ordered water. The old man was an alcoholic through and through, but thankfully, he knew when to quit for a moment.

"Tifa…" he said, taking a sip, "There was something very…peculiar about Barren's case. I didn't want to discuss it outside, or in front of your children…"

Tifa glanced over to where Denzel and Marlene stood. At a nodded to the young girl, they were shuffled outside, out of hearing distance. Artese waited until the door was firmly shut behind the group before speaking again.

"There's something very wrong with mister Barren, Tifa." The old man sighed, closing his eyes. "And I fear its reappearance. For such a disastrous thing to reappear after so short awhile…the turn around was quicker than any professional scientist or doctor could ever predict. Worse, if it was evolved, the ramifications…"

"Wait a minute," Tifa interrupted, "What are you talking about?"

Artese looked up at her, his eyes piercing. "I'm talking about, my child, the very disease you and master Cloud seemingly vanquished nearly six months ago…the same disease that was so close to taking young Denzel's short life and the life of Cloud."

Tifa felt cold all over. It couldn't be…"That's impossible. The water…"

"Water is not a cure." Artese frowned. "But I'm afraid it's true. Barren, I'm not sure how or when he contracted it, but the signs of advanced geostigma are there and clear. The vomiting and release of blood through openings in the skin, fainting, dizziness, blindness…it's as clear to me as anyone else. Geostigma is what's killing Barren."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Geostigma? But with the destruction of Sephiroth and Kadaj, all of that should be no more than a terrible, distant memory. But here Artese, a man she'd trust with her own life as well as the lives of her orphans, was telling her that Barren had contracted geostigma.

"But you said he'd be fine…" Tifa whispered, her eyes locked with Artese's. "Just now."

"Would you have me proclaim to all of Midgar that geostigma was back?" Artese snorted into his cup, taking another drink. "I think not. I only said that so as not to frighten the people and the children. By the way, did Barren show any signs of geostigma?"

"No."

"No scarring? Rashes on the skin? Periods of sudden illness?"

"No. No. No." With every answer, the headache Tifa was feeling grew.

"What about traveling? Has he gone anywhere in the past month or so?"

How was she supposed to know that? She didn't live with him!

"Um…he left to Healin last week and just got back last night." Tifa pondered absently. Had he met Cloud on the way back in?

"Healin, eh?" Artese nodded to himself. "Interesting. That used to be where geostigma sufferers used to stay. What business did he have in Healin?"

Tifa sighed, folding her elbow on the counter and placing her chin in an upturned hand. "To speak with Shin-ra about the new construction project."

"Ah yes. Their 'resurrection'…" Artese shook his head. "Terrible business if you ask me." Pushing the now empty glass across the counter, Artese stood. "Well, as far as I know, Barren probably contracted geostigma while at Healin. Unfortunate for him, very unfortunate. I find it quite curious, however, that the disease advanced so quickly…usually it takes much longer than a week, three at the least, before any real signs become apparent." Artese turned, walking towards the door. "I'll keep you updated on Barren's progress, my dear. Let's all pray for the best, hum?" He turned, tipping his head in her direction, and then was gone.

Tifa stood behind the counter of her now empty, dead silent bar. Her body still trying to recover from these multiple shocks. Shaking her head, only one thought managed to make it through the fog that was now her mind.

_What the hell just happened?

* * *

_

_Please remember to read and review! In the world of writing, reviews are like gold. Do you realize, that if every other person simply left one little "I liked it" I'd have almost forty reviews by now? Reviews makes authors happy…makes us want to live. Ok, I won't go that far, but it does make us feel all bubbly inside._


	3. Chapter 3

_**No Forgiveness**_

_**By: Wildfire Sky**_

_All right, now we're getting somewhere. Saw a definite spike in hits with the submission of the second chapter! Let's try and make the reviews do the same, huh? Oh hell! I forgot the damn disclaimer!_

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own Final Fantasy or any of its games/movies. If I did…I'd be one rich S.O.B._

_**No Forgiveness**_

_**Chapter Three

* * *

**_

In a large, dimly light room of an abandoned building, a man sat pondering over the contents of a small binder in front of him, his deep green eyes scanning over the compiled information carefully. He kept his body stiff and tight, a habit borne of nearly twenty years hard training in the militaristic police forces. Slowly his gloved hands flipped the pages of the binder, a pen occasionally coming down on the ever-present notepad to jot down various notes and ideas. Reaching towards the ashtray, the man picked up a half-burned cigarette, putting it to his lips.

"You shouldn't smoke, Tyrell. It's bad for you."

The man didn't look up from his binder, instead taking a slow pull and dispersing the smoke into the air as he flipped another page. "Has it been taken care of?"

A shadow peeled itself off from the far wall, striking silver eyes seeking out the other's face. "Of course. When have you known me to procrastinate?"

"I won't answer that." The man tapped the ashes from his cigarette into the ashtray. "I can't have anything going wrong, do you understand?"

"Yes, yes. I've heard the same speech a thousand times from a thousand different employers." The shadow shrugged one shoulder. "How long do you expect me to stick around anyways?"

"As long as the money lasts, of course."

"Of course." The shadow shifted, approaching the large man's desk. "What now, Colonel?"

The large man stood up, his green eyes sharp against his dark skin as they slid over the body of the shadow. Putting out his cigarette, Tyrell slowly walked over until he was face to face with the hidden figure an oily smile on his face. "We wait and see what happens. Mean while, I want you to keep an eye on the boy and his little 'family'. Make sure they don't figure out too much, understand?"

The figure snorted. "That's the low-life job of one of your lackeys."

"And now it's your job. Unless you don't want to get paid…"

"Don't you try that crap on me," the figure said angrily, finally stepping from the darkness. His red eyes glared angrily at Tyrell, his pale skin and dark clothing giving him the distressing look of a vampire. Moving close to Tyrell, the figure bared his teeth dangerously. "I swear I'll kill you where you stand if you don't do as agreed. I hate liars…but more than anything I hate greedy liars."

Tyrell stared back calmly before flashing a disarming smile and holding his hands up in mock surrender, backing away. "Forgive me. I didn't mean it seriously; of course I'll pay you. I know he honor of a contract and will always uphold one that my signature is on."

"We don't have a written contract."

"A verbal contract, whatever." Tyrell waved a dismissing hand, "Stop worrying about it, alright? You've worked for me before and I've always come through, haven't I, Alavar? However, this task, I can't trust it to just anyone…especially not one of my own. If that were the case, I wouldn't have hired you in the first place." Tyrell went back behind his desk, opening a side drawer and pulling out a thin folder and sliding it across the highly polished wood surface. The figure approached, picking it up and flipping it open.

"That is the target and his family." Tyrell said, sitting back down and lighting another cigarette. "We've had our eye on him ever since that incident six months ago."

"You mean the end of the geostigma...that whole thing?"

"Correct." Tyrell affirmed with a nod. "With the ending of the geostigma, it seems that the target returned to his old job of a carrier. However, this new family of his has kept him…distracted. This past week or so, he's stayed at a bar and orphanage called the Seventh Heaven."

At this the figure, Alavar, looked up. "Seventh Heaven?"

"You've been there before?"

Alavar nodded, flipping a page and pulling out a small picture. "I used to go there…really good drinks. I wasn't aware Tifa had opened an orphanage now."

"For the children with geostigma apparently." Tyrell smiled. "Such a soft hearted and beautiful young woman…almost makes me wish my wife had been like her." There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as Tyrell stared down at a picture frame on his desk before he looked back up at the figure. "Unfortunately for this Tifa, she had an outbreak of advanced geostigma in her bar yesterday. Had it happened later, then things wouldn't be so distressing. As it is, however, the geostigma outbreak was a turn around of less than twenty-four hours, that's much sooner than expected by our scientists."

"What was the original turn around time?"

"Seventy-two hours…approximately four days after exposure."

"Why has it accelerated?"

Tyrell sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. This outbreak had apparently caused the man a good deal of stress. "The acceleration of the disease is thought to have been caused by the form in which the geostigma is stored. Somehow, this man…a Barren, inhaled the gaseous form of geostigma and contracted it. Judging by how quickly the geostigma advanced, the effects of the disease had to have been instantaneous."

Alavar frowned. "Gaseous? You're storing it as a gas? Why?"

Tyrell shrugged one shoulder. The tip of his cigarette flaring as he took a pull. "Easier to store…easier to carry. Only when mixed with certain chemicals and elements, such as those present in the body of Barren, does the geostigma retract into a liquid form, . However, as a gas, it's not contagious…passing from person to person is impossible. But as a liquid…"

"It can contaminate."

"Everything." Tyrell growled. "The moment the liquid form of geostigma touches something -- anything -- it immediately begins to corrupt the system, taking it over and destroying the body's immune system, spreading throughout the body using the circulatory system. As it does so, the geostigma lays dormant within the body, slowly draining it of its nutrients and eating away at the tissues, starting with your skin and blood vessels before moving on to major organs. This can take a matter of weeks to a matter of months."

"And I suppose the will of a contaminated body to livehas nothing to do with survival."

"Absolutely not. Geostigma is a silent killer that can't be destroyed…not with any known medicine or willfulness."

Alavar stared at Tyrell suspiciously. "But in Midgar…they _did_ find a cure."

Tyrell snorted, ashes billowing out from his cigarette. "The so called 'miracle' water? Please, Alavar, I thought you were more mature than that."

Alavar glared at him. "The people who've bathed in it no longer have the geostigma. I'd say that's a cure."

"For that _strand_ of geostigma perhaps." Tyrell smirked grimly. "But, like any other virus,the geostigma evolves. This new strand is absolutely nothing like the past one, save for how it kills. If you recall, the past geostigma wasn't contagious, only those who contracted it outright had it. This time, no so." Tyrell nodded at the folder is Alavar's hand. "Which is why this is so important. We hired the target, Cloud Strife, to transport a sample of the geostigma to our manufacturing development in the Outer Banks. There was an apparent accident in which Barren came into contact with the geostigma."

"He inhaled it and now he has it."

"Correct" Tyrell affirmed again, "As I mentioned. We believe Strife also inhaled the geostigma…but we're not sure whether or not it's taken any effect on his body yet."

"Why not?"

"Because we lost him traveling over the desert. He'd left during the night and our agent wasn't able to catch up with him after the accident." Tyrell stared into Alavar's red eyes. "Which is where you come in…"

"You want me to find him?" Alavar nodded. "That I can do."

Tyrell held up a hand before Alavar could move. "Not quite. We know where the boy is headed, so a tail isn't necessary. If he makes it, he makes it. If not, then he's probably dead and the geostigma sample is lost anyways. Once exposed to the air, the geostigma must make contact with some form of life within an hour or it will disperse and eventually breakdown, eating itself to stay alive. Seeing as there's no life between Midgar and the Outer Banks, we're not worried about it." Tyrell held up a picture of Barren. "But seeing as how this man _did_ contract the geostigma and had an outbreak in a public area, there's a very good chance that the geostigma will spread as an epidemic once again."

Alavar quirked an eyebrow. "But the turn around is so quick…the diseased person will be dead long before they have a chance to spread it."

"Not necessarily." Tyrell shook his head. "Any exchange of fluids, through coughing, sneezing, sharing foods, sex, that sort of thing, even post-mortem…the geostigma will spread. I need you to go to the Seventh Heaven and evaluate the situation."

"Evaluate?" Alavar stared at Tyrell with a distrusting frown. "How bad was the outbreak?"

Tyrell winced slightly. "Pretty bad. The man nearly bled out all over the owner's floor. If she came into contact with it…"

"She's dead."

"Precisely." Tyrell put out his smoke and folded his hands on top of his desk. "Find the girl and her family. Find anyone who's come into contact with either them or this Barren. If it's determined that they've contracted the geostigma…"

Alavar nodded, not needed Tyrell to finish. "I understand perfectly."

Tyrell nodded, tapping his desk firmly. "This outbreak _must_ be contained. If it spreads, nothing, not even some sort of 'miracle', will stop it. Do you understand? Meanwhile, I will have my scientists begin a search of a cure, even if it's a fruitless cause. Good luck to you."

Alavar stood with a nod, making his way to the door. But before he could step from the office, Tyrell's deep voice reached his ears.

"And for the love of all things holy…_don't_ _touch anyone_."

* * *

Cloud rubbed at his eyes, struggling to concentrate on the road ahead. He'd been traveling for three days now, and it felt like he hadn't gone more than a few miles. He was exhausted, hot, and all around miserable. Worse, the package that he'd _promised_ to safely deliver was cracked and now empty. He'd driven until day light after the accident before checking the package. By then, it was too late…the container was empty, a few droplets of moisture remaining around the cracked lip of the oblong bottle. He would have to explain that to whomever he handed the package off to, with an apology and a refund.

And he needed the money.

It was nice living with Tifa because he didn't feel the depression as much as he did when living on his own in the church. At that time it was days before he had enough money from odd jobs to eat something. Nobody had enough money to hire him as a carrier and he barely had enough to survive. Every once in awhile, he'd bark up the courage to stand in a soup line when sources elsewhere were scarce. If not, he'd return to Tifa's, eat something, rest on a real bed, and then leave. He'd tried to keep his struggles from Tifa, but eventually she figured it out, handing him a pack of supplies every time he left. It was embarrassing, but he couldn't bring himself to stay with Tifa while she had to struggle against the depression herself and feed hungry mouths.

Cloud took this job because of the excellent pay, despite how suspicious it sounded. With it, he'd be able to repay Tifa and perhaps give her a little more to spend on herself. Although he never voiced it, her obsession with the children rather than her own health was distressing, and he'd prefer it if she'd concentrate on herself for once. As soon as he came back, he was taking her out to a movie and dinner…not as a date necessarily…just as something between friends.

Another wave of exhaustion hit Cloud and he pressed the brake, slowing Fenrir and cutting the engine. Removing his glasses, Cloud wiped a hand across his brow, sucking in air. He could understand the heat seeing as he was in the desert, but never had it been _this_ hot. Cloud adjusted his clothing, wondering vaguely if he should remove his single long-sleeve now that the geostigma was gone. It was just a thought, but Cloud lifted the sleeve to scratch at a sudden itch on his arm. Rubbing vigorously, he glanced at his surroundings. Nothing but rocks and open, barren, desert. It was lonely out here.

"Jeeze…" he growled to himself as the itching persisted. Rolling up his sleeve, Cloud look down at his arm and instantly froze, his heart clenching in his chest. He couldn't believe it…didn't want to believe it. But it was there, without a doubt, clearly on his arm. The dark bruise wasn't big, no more than an inch in diameter, but it was still horrifying. The impossibility of this was too much for his mind to content with. He'd been cured…everyone in Midgar had been cured…so it couldn't be geostigma. It had to be a bruise from the accident.

_But what kind of bruise itches this much?_

Cloud ripped his fingers away from his flesh, clenching them angrily. It wasn't the geostigma…

Fenrir's engine roared as he started her again, forcing his mind away from the painful itch on his arm. Looking up he could see the skyscraper ruins of the Outer Banks in the distance. He was almost there. Fenrir thundered across the desert, bouncing over the uneven plain as the Outer Banks became closer and closer. He would be there within the hour. Then he could make the drop and come home…just under a week of travel. Not too bad.

Cloud was maybe a mile or two out of the Outer Banks when he heard the first growl of an engine. Keeping his face forward, he tried to keep his body from stiffening. It might just be another traveler heading into the Outer Banks. But then, moments later, there was another growl, and another, until it seemed like the air was filled with the rumble of engines. Cloud risked a glance over his shoulder. Behind him, at least five riders were baring down on him, their large dark blue motorcycles glinting in the sunlight. Their faces hidden by their helmets, the riders barely acknowledge him, instead revving their engines as forcing their vehicles to go faster.

Cloud frowned, noting the weapons slung over their shoulders. Definitely not travelers.

_Kapwing!_

Startled, Cloud jerked around, pulling his bike to one side as the bullet ricocheted off her surface. Up ahead, another group of riders stood ready, their bikes blocking the entrance to the Outer Banks. Each held a rifle in their hands, and each rifle was aimed at him. Immediately, Cloud pressed the switch on his throttle and Fenrir's storage compartment flew open, his long swords unfolding and at the ready. The riders ahead hesitated, their helmets turning as they regarded each other. Drawing the longest blade of his Buster Sword, Cloud held it up in warning, not bother to slow down. They were either going to move or shoot him, and if it was the latter, he'd rather be moving fast enough to where he had a chance of escape. The rocks on either side of him quickly began to grow, jutting up into the sky and forming two overhangs above him. Suddenly, bullets seemed to rain down from above, and Cloud looked up. Racing above him on either side were more armed men of this biker gang and this time, they weren't hesitating to fire at him. Up ahead, the riders raised their weapons again and one of them shouted.

"Stop the bike!"

Cloud was surrounded. Even if he managed to cut his way through the riders ahead, their friends would finish him off before he escaped the overhang. Slowing Fenrir, Cloud kept his weapon up as he came to a stop a few mere feet from the riders. Above him the bullets stopped and the riders above and behind all came to a stop. One of the riders dismounted, coming forward, weapon aimed.

"Drop the sword now and get off the bike."

Hesitating, Cloud slowly did as he was told. Tossing the Buster Sword to the ground in front of the rider he dismounted, his hands up in surrender. The rider moved forward, bending to pick up the sword, a victorious waltz to his step. Hands wrapping around the hilt, the rider heaved upwards.

"Holy shit!" he cried out as he collapsed to his knees, unable to move the sword. Glancing up at Cloud the rider tried again. "What…what the hell kind of sword…?"

Another rider from behind called out. "Come on, man, quit screwin' around and lift the damn thing!"

The rider moved his weapon around to his back, bending at the knees and gripping the Buster Sword with both hands, still not making any progress. "I…I can't move it! Someone help me out here!"

"Oh for the love of…" Footsteps crunched across the dirt and rock from behind, the voice much closer now. A rider brushed past Cloud, making his way over to where his partner struggled. "Keep your guns on him! If he moves an inch, blow his fucking head off!" The rider shoved the other one out of the way, bending down. "Move damn it. Let me show you how to--_gah!_ Holy hell!"

"I told you!"

The second rider stepped back from the sword, removing his helmet, a mop of long brown hair falling down his back in a long ponytail. Turning, the rider set a pair of vicious purple eyes on Cloud, his gaze seething. Raising his gun he approached Cloud, motioning to the ground with a jerk of his head.

"On your knees. Now!"

The other rider approached, putting a hand on Cloud's shoulder, Instantly, Cloud slapped it away, sending the smaller rider a dark glare. The rider jumped back, his gun raised.

"Hey!" Yelled the brunette. "Do that again and you're dead, understand me?" He nodded at the small rider who slowly and cautiously approached Cloud, a thick cord of rope in his hand. "Nothing stupid now, alright kid? Nice and easy…"

The small rider quickly pulled Cloud's hands behind his back, tying them securely. Blood roared in the blonde's ear…he could take them. He _wanted_ to take them. Especially this violet eyed bastard in front of him. He stiffened his body, ready to attack, but suddenly…

"Aw sick! What the hell!"

The rider closest to Cloud jumped back as the young blonde keeled forward, blood spurting from his mouth. Retching sounds filled the air as the riders stared in shock at Cloud as he fell to the ground, rolling into a fetal position and sucking air. The rider closest to him looked at the leader.

"Hey, there's something wrong with this guy…" he motioned with his head at Cloud."I'm not touching him."

The brown haired rider swore. "If he's sick, then as a product he's no good. Neither is his stuff." He smirked cruelly at the collapsed Cloud. "Such a strong guy like him would go for a lot on the market…well, if we can't sell him off for labor, we can still send his body to the Surgeons and let them play around with it." He approached Cloud, kneeling down in front of him. "As I understand it, the Surgeons are excellent in their craft…"

Cloud groaned painfully. The leader motioned his head towards Cloud. "Call the Surgeons. They can come by and pick him up out here themselves. We'll take his bike and whatever else he has."

The other smaller rider glanced at Fenrir. "But…but what if he coughed all over it and shit?"

"Then wear gloves, you moron."

The leader looked back down at Cloud, a tight, uncomfortable feeling in his gut. If something was really wrong with this kid…not even the Surgeons would touch him. They may be criminals, but they weren't stupid. The sick were feared in a place where there were no reliable doctors around…the sick were killed and their bodies dumped. Without a doubt, this kid's fate would be no different.

Uncaring of the dust they kicked up around Cloud's slumped body, the bike gang quickly departed, leaving nothing behind except an unconscious body and a massive sword. Far above, a creature approached the lip of the overhang, its long, sleek body bouncing slightly on small legs as its tail swished excitedly. It stared down at the body with beady, black eyes, a low yelping developing in its throat as it bounced.

"Whatcha got there, boy?" asked a gritty voice from behind. The creature turned its head before rushing towards the speaker and clambering up their broad body. Curling its tail around the speaker's neck, the creature sat on his shoulder, yipping excitedly. The man moved forward, his desert brown cloak shielding him from the vicious rays of the sun. He paused at the lip of the overhang, staring over the edge.

"Good boy…" the man whispered, reaching up to give the lizard a rewarding scratch. "Let's gather him up, eh?"

* * *

_End of chapter three! Ya'll are killin' me with these reviews. I really would like to know if my writing is regards to FFVII: AC is on target or not. I always worry about whether or not I'm portraying the characters correctly and whether or not you readers understand. Just some simple reassurance that people like this is all I'm asking for._

_Also, in one of my fanfics, I was called "arrogant" and an "asshole" because I asked for reviews. If I come across that way, I sincerely apologize because I don't mean to. I would never want to give the impression that I don't appreciate readers for being just that…readers. So if that's what you think of me, I'm sorry that you feel that way and hope it will change._


	4. Chapter 4

**_No Forgiveness_**

**_By: Wildfire Sky_**

_Alright! Now we're getting somewhere! I guess with enough begging and enough pleading, people eventually respond! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, it really means a lot to me. But please, now that you've started don't stop! Also, one thing to address…I was questioned on why Cloud was bleeding from the geostigma. He hadn't before. It's because, as I said, it's a new, more potent strand that's different from the one in the movie. You'll soon understand._

_**No Forgiveness**_

_**Chapter Four

* * *

**_

When Cloud opened his mako-blue eyes, it was to the dim flickering and popping of what sounded like a fire. For a moment, he laid still, his mind struggling to take in his dark surroundings and remember exactly what happened. He could smell moisture, the atmosphere was thick with it, and something cooking, although what it was he couldn't determine. He was on his back, laying on something hard and rough, stones by the feel of it. Far above him, the firelight cast shadows against a far wall, shadows of the long jagged slabs of rock that suspended from the vaulted ceiling above. He rolled his head to one side, trying to find the source of the light, when he was met with two large, piercing black eyes.

Cloud jerked his head back in surprise, causing the black eyes to retreat, their owner hissing at him angrily and barring a mouth full of sharp-looking fangs. Its body arched up along the spine, the tiny scales that lined its body quivering violently and filling the air with a rattling sound, the tail streamlining out directly behind the creatures slim body. Hissing again, the creature's eyes flashed in the firelight, giving them a golden look for one brief moment. Cloud reached for his always near sword, his heart stopping when he grabbed air. The creature hissed again, rearing back, fangs dripping. Suddenly, it lunged at Cloud's face, mouth open wide and teeth glistening.

Cloud snapped his eyes shut against the impending attack, waiting for the pain of fangs ripping through his flesh. But it never came. Instead he felt a body on his face and the distinct crunching of bones. The body above him jerked a few times before the creature retreated, a long body caught up in its mouth. Cloud blinked as the tiny lizard sat back on its haunches, gripping the snake's body in its forepaws and beginning to eat, tearing at the still spasming body. The tiny creature continued to watch him, not with so much menace, but more keen interest and curiosity.

"I see you've met my little friend, there."

Cloud looked up and over at the voice. A figure stood in what looked like the entrance to the cave, his body wrapped in a yellow cloak with the hood thrown up over his face, casting a dark shadow over it. In one hand he held a sack, and in the other…

Cloud inhaled sharply. His Buster sword. Whereas most humans could barely lift it, this man held the massive weapon as easily as Cloud did himself. The man simply stood there, ignorant to the increasing tension in Cloud's body. The lizard darted away from Cloud, leaving behind the half eaten carcass of the snake as it clambered up onto the figure's shoulder. Behind them, Cloud could see the darkness of night, the black sky punctuated by stars and the entrance to the cave bathed in moonlight. It was so dark…the last thing he remembered was the bright, heated mid-afternoon of the desert.

The figure moved into the cave, pulling back his hood. Carefully, Cloud watched him, wary of this stranger who was currently holding him captive. The urge to escape began to well up within him, but for some reason, Cloud just couldn't bring his body to respond to his movements. The man lowered the sword and his sack to the ground before reaching inside and pulling out a jar of something liquid and brown. He glanced in Cloud's direction, approaching confidently as he unscrewed the jar's top. Cloud flinched away instinctively as the man crouched in front of him.

"Calm yourself." The man reproached, dipping his fingers into the liquid. "I'm not here to hurt you, boy."

Cloud continued to watch him. "You have my Buster Sword."

The man shrugged one shoulder. "So I do. Open your mouth."

Cloud kept it shut, refusing to obey this stranger. He took the time to quickly look over the man's features. He was dirty, but not overly so. It seemed that the dust came from whatever venture he'd just returned from, not caked on like the uncleanliness Cloud undoubtedly had. No this man, obviously cared for his appearance. He wore a neatly trimmed goatee, the beard extended just over his strong chin. Piercing blue eyes stared out from the long, spiked brown bangs that fell over the man's brow and ended just over his eyes. Even his desert clothing seemed clean for such a dusty environment. The man had a look of strength about him…his well developed muscles rippling out from the short sleeves of his tunic-like undershirt, his legs formed as he easily squatted in front of Cloud.

Finally, after realizing Cloud wouldn't be cooperating, the man gave a slight nod, wiping his fingers against the jar's lip and giving Cloud a small smirk. "The name's Delevan. And this…" he said, eyes flicking up towards the lizard on his shoulder. "…is Tenki. Don't need to be scared of him, he doesn't hurt humans, only other reptiles and, sometimes, birds." The man stood up, his eyes sweeping briefly over Cloud's splayed body. "If you're wondering as to why you can't move, it's because I gave you a semi-paralyzing medicine."

Cloud blinked, his chest tightening in panic. "For what…exactly?"

Delevan turned away, screwing the jar lid back on. "You're a lucky young man, my friend," he said returning to his sack by the fire and reaching inside again, "very lucky. Had I not been there, you most certainly would have been taken by the Surgeons. And if they had gotten a hold of you…" he shook his head with a small laugh. "Well, let me just say this, don't ever cross paths with a Surgeon unless you're ready to die a very horrible death."

Frowning, Cloud narrowed his eyes. "You didn't answer my question. What was the medicine for?"

Delevan looked up, his eyes piercing. "Do you really want to know? Or can you be satisfied knowing it was for your own good?" At Cloud's failure to answer, Delevan sighed, standing up slowly, a blanket slung over his forearm. "I'll explain everything in the morning. The medicine will have worn off since then. For now, it would be best if you got some sleep and regained your energy."

Despite his internal want to protest, Cloud felt the tell-tale signs of exhaustion hit his body like a train. Already, his eyes were slipping closed, a heaviness falling over his body. Stifling a yawn, Cloud allowed himself to slip into a dreamless sleep.

Delevan stood watching him until Cloud's eyes slipped closed, his breathing evening out, before tossing the thin blanket over the boy's thin body. He returned to his place by the fire, quietly watching the boy sleep. Tenki glanced at Delevan momentarily before flashing down his body and over to where Cloud slept, snatching up his half-eaten meal.

Delevan leaned back against the cave wall, folding his arms across his chest and letting his head drop. "Watch him, Tenki." He mumbled, closing his eyes. "We can't let him go anywhere just yet."

* * *

Tifa sat on a bar stool, her leg hanging off one end and swinging carelessly as she flipped through the pages of a magazine she'd happened to pick up on her way through town. She was bored to say the least, her face cupped in one hand, her eyes half lidded as she read. Denzel and Marlene had long ago left to venture out into town, leaving her alone to wait on ay information about Barren. The large man had been under the care of the good doctor Artese for the past four days, and she had yet to hear from him. She was worried. 

The tingling of the store bell alerted Tifa to the entry of someone. She didn't turn, thinking that it was only Denzel and Marlene trying to sneak up on her again. Ever since the incident, her bar had been totally empty of customers, even her usuals shying away in fear. She was losing money…and at this rate, if her customers didn't come back she would have to start cutting back drastically on common things…like food and clothing.

"Excuse me, ma'am…" said a gentle voice, causing Tifa to turn in surprise. A tall, pale man stood in the doorway, his strange eyes soft, almost kind looking. He entered the bar, shrugging off his dark, leather coat and placing it on one of the coat hangers by the door. Smiling disarmingly, the man lifted himself onto a stool as Tifa moved behind the counter, already pulling out glasses. The man watched her with a pair of powerful red eyes.

Tifa forced herself not to stare. "What would you like?"

The man laughed. "I suppose you don't remember me then. I used to be able to walk in the door and you'd have my drink ready for me. It was…nice." His smile faded. "Then, of course, the geostigma hit and you were open less and less to care for the sick children." The man's red eyes looked around the large bar. "I was surprised to hear you'd turned this place into an orphanage."

Tifa stared hard at him. "Perhaps we've met before, but I'm not good with faces, I'm sorry." That was a lie. She was excellent with remembering names and faces, it was a survival technique. But this man…she just couldn't place him, and if he came in as often as he said, he should be easy to remember.

The stranger smiled again with a small shake of his head. "I suppose I really have changed. Does the name: Alavar, ring any bells?"

Tifa inhaled sharply. It did ring bells…alarm bells. Alavar had been a frequent (and welcome) customer for years…at least until the geostigma hit and he ran away. She'd heard rumors that he'd joined forces with various "clients", ridding his employers of their annoyances. He'd become an assassin, and a dangerous one at that.

But then again…those were just rumors. Tifa had had a hard time believing the rumors from what she knew about him. Alavar had been very kind, open, and funny, playing with the children whenever he got a chance…he wasn't the man people were describing him as.

Tifa frowned, pouring the now familiar drink and placing it in front of him. "You've changed…a lot."

"Have I?" Alavar laughed, picking up his drink. "I'm afraid that's what happens to people when they leave. It's been so long since I've last seen you, I'm not surprised that you've forgotten me and my--unique--personality."

"I mean physically."

"Ah. Forgive me…looks like I'm just as ignorant as always." Alavar nodded somberly. "Yes, my appearance has changed quite drastically, hasn't it? An unfortunate accident at one of the Mako energy plants I worked at."

Tifa tilted her head in curiosity. "You weren't affected by the geostigma?"

"Nobody was unaffected by that tragic event. Whether you knew someone with geostigma, or you had it yourself…everyone suffered in some way." Alavar downed his drink in one gulp, his eyes downcast as he replaced it on the countertop. "I am no exception. My suffering was…minimal…compared to others, but I still felt the pain of that horrid disease." Alavar looked up at Tifa, a small smile on his face. "Those orphans you took in…did they also have the geostigma?"

Tifa gave a small shrug. "Some did. Most had lost their parents to the geostigma." She removed Alavar's empty glass. "They all have homes now…"

"Accept for Denzel and Marlene. Right?"

Tifa's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "How did you…"

Alavar winked, tapping the side of his head. "News travels fast around Midgar. They tell me you live with two small children -- Denzel and Marlene." There was a pause as Alavar considered her with a tight frown. "You don't believe those rumors, do you? That I've turned into some sort of assassin for hire?" He shook his head. "The very notion of it is insulting at best. I've been nothing but kind to the people of Midgar, and for them to treat me as some sort of criminal from the Outer Banks…well, you can imagine my discontent with it all."

Alavar tossed a few gil onto the counter, more than enough to pay for the drink. "Well, I have to be on my way. Do you know if any of the hotels in this area are still open for business?"

Tifa gathered the money from the countertop. "If you want a nice one, you'll have to go out of town…probably near Healin or Kalm. Most business left with the arrival of the depression, so you won't find what you used to."

Alavar let out an exhaustive sigh. "Healin, huh? That's a little bit too far for my tastes. I want to stay in town."

"Are you planning on staying in Midgar permanently?"

"Eventually. Now that the geostigma is gone, Midgar and the rest of the world is safe. I'm thinking of settling in again."

"There are still a lot of people with the geostigma."

Alavar nodded. "I saw the line coming from the church. It's at least a mile long. At least the W.R.O. is there to keep things in order." He removed his jacket from the hanger, slipping it over his body. "Oh, by the way…I understand you had a little accident here the other day. Something involving Barren."

Tifa came around the counter, her eyes shifting towards the stain in the middle of her bar. "Yes, I did."

"Any word back on Barren's condition?"

Tifa sighed, her shoulder's visibly slumping. "Not yet…I'm waiting for word back from Doctor Artese."

"Don't worry," Alavar said with a smile. "I'm sure he'll turn up eventually. Have a good afternoon, Miss Tifa. Tell the little ones I said hello and I'll bring plenty of treats next time."

As he left the bar, the door closing behind him, his happy go-lucky smile fell away, replaced by the cold, calculated glare of a killer.

* * *

Artese leaned over the sweating form of Barren, his stethoscope in his ears as he listened to the large man's rapid heartbeat. Not two days ago, Barren had lapsed into a deep coma, one which had an apparent tendency for sudden seizures. They'd happened so often now that Artese had assigned a twenty-four hour watch on Barren so someone was nearby in case of an emergency. Even now, in a seemingly passive time, Barren's body occasionally shook, causing the entire bed to shudder. 

His assisting nurse reached over with a small, white cloth, wiping it across Barren's blood covered mouth. It was a useless act, the blood still trickling from the corner of his mouth in a steady stream. The man was lucky he hadn't bled out yet.

Artese slowly put away his stethoscope and picked up Barren's chart from the bedside table. "Give him another dose of antholine and a two milligram shot of thyfuloscine." His voice was its characteristic softness, his hand moving rapidly as he wrote on the chart. He looked up at the emptying blood bag that hung from the tall stand next to Barren's bed. "Also, replace his blood supply; make sure it's A-positive and treated with an anti-viral."

The nurse nodded and the instructions. She hesitated in leaving, staring at the still writing Artese. "Excuse me, sir…what do you think his chances are of survival? After all, this _is_ the geostigma, isn't it?"

Artese sighed audibly, looking over the rim of his spectacles. "The patient's condition is only worsening with you standing there asking these obvious questions. Please, help me help him by doing what you're told as quickly as possible." He looked at the door and then back at her. "Please."

With a short bow, the nurse quickly scampered off to do as we bidden. Artese remained a few moments more, jotting down notes and checking Barren's vital signs before replacing the chart back at the foot of the bed. Wrapping his stethoscope around his neck, Artese quickly left the room, going down and around the hall corner. His eyes on the black and white tiled floor, he never saw the large figure coming towards him until they collided.

"Heavens!" Artese exclaimed, stumbling back and looking up. "E-Excuse me, sir, I didn't see you."

The man frowned at him, his red eyes flashing. "It's no problem, doctor. Really." He quickly brushed past and around the corner.

Artese watched him, frowning, before continuing on his way with a small shake of his head.

Alavar glanced over his shoulder to see if the doctor had followed him. He hadn't meant to make unnecessary contact with anyone until he'd confirmed the status of Barren, but it now it was done and he couldn't do anything to take it back. Better to concentrate on the task at hand. Quietly, Alavar slipped into the hospital room, his red eyes narrowing on the unmoving body before him. Walking over, Alavar snatched up the medical chart, reading the top name.

"Tentula, Barren." He smirked down at the unconscious body. "Well, hello there Mr. Tentula…" Alavar continued to read the chart. "High fever…comatose…possible contraction of advanced geostigma…evidence of exposure minimal." Alavar pulled out his thin, black cell phone, pressing the speed dial for the only number on the phone.

_"Tyrell."_

Alavar smirked victoriously. "I found him at the local hospital. He has the geostigma as thought."

Tyrell swore. _"What's his current condition?"_

"Comatose." Alavar glanced at the chart again. "Looks like he slipped into a coma about two days ago. I'm surprised he isn't dead yet."

_"I'll spare you the gruesome details," _Tyrell growled into the receiver, _"Once someone has developed advanced geostigma, the end isn't a short as you'd think. The virus won't devour major organs until last. Does the man look very thin at all?"_

Alavar lifted Barren's hospital gown. "He's bone thin. I can't see almost every rib and bone in his body."

_"The geostigma is eating away at his muscles; they're the least needed in the body. Then it'll probably advance to the nervous system, then the immune, going from the least needed to the most."_

"So what will be the last to go?"

_"The heart, brain, and lungs. You can survive, especially in this day and age, without anything else. You're life won't be wonderful -- actually you'll be nothing more than a vegetable -- but you can survive."_

"It doesn't look like his doctor has too much confidence in his survival."

_"Who is it?"_

"A Doctor…Artese." Alavar thought for a moment. "I think I passed by him in the hallway."

_"Well, he's a hazard as well. He and his staff."_

Alavar shook his head, warding off an impending headache. "Dare I ask why you were screwing around with something like this in the first place?"

There was a short pause. _"Those details…" _Tyrell snarled, _"Are not essential to your mission. You've been given everything you need. Anything else is on a need-to-know basis."_

"Fine. What about the primary target?"

_"Cloud Strife never arrived at the delivery point. He's assumed dead, either by the geostigma or bandits." _His voice was uncaring. _"The geostigma has long been dispersed into the atmosphere, so the sample is essentially dead. Complete your tasks and return for payment."_

Alavar looked back down at Barren. "Understood." He snapped the phone closed and replaced it, his fingers brushing against the cold metal of his silenced pistol. He'd expected this Barren to be conscious and would have needed a few bullets to put him out of his misery. Alavar moved over to the life support system.

_But this will be so much easier…_

With a confident smirk, Alavar leaned down and with a powerful yank, unplugged the machine. Almost instantly, a high pitched squeal of warning sounded, but a well-placed punch silenced the machine for good. The body on the bed gave a small jerk and a gasp, his fingers curling as he struggled to breathe. Vaguely, Alavar wondered if a virus knew when it was about to die and if it would fight to survive…much like a human would. Barren gave a final shudder and sighed as his body stilled, the welling blood escaping from the corners of his mouth in a rapid flow.

Alavar stepped back as the blood continued to flow from his body and to the floor in a spreading pool. It was amazing how much blood the human body could contain. Straightening his jacket, Alavar closed the curtain around Barren's bed and left the room, flicking off the light as he went. The young nurse was coming around the corner as he approached her hands full with a tray of needles and syringes.

"Excuse me, ma'am." He said as she passed. The nurse paused to look at him. "I think your patient might be dead." Alavar smiled at her shocked look and walked away.

Behind him, a metal tray fell from suddenly lax hands.

_Secondary target eliminated.

* * *

_

"What in the _hell_ is all this crap?"

The group of riders stood around the expansive, empty room, nervously watching as their leader spoke with the large, snarling man sitting before them. His round face was red with fury as he glared down at the various items spread on the table before him. He picked up an empty, cracked container, breaking the tight warning seal and opening it.

"Is this some sort of joke?" he demanded, tossing the empty container back onto the table in disgust. "I pay you a damn good sum of money for you to bring me back things of quality…things I can _sell_. Now what in the hell am I gonna do with this piece of garbage, and the rest of the junk you've brought here? Sell it for firewood?"

A longhaired brunette shifted nervously, his violet eyes shifting. "But Paulie…"

The large man slammed his fist down on the table causing both the riders and the items to jump. "_I hate that fucking name!_" He roared, his face turning even redder. "God, I hate that name! And I know that you know that, Red."

Red, the brunette, winced. "Sorry Paul--_er_…Lucky."

The large man leaned back. Lucky, as he came to be known from his immense luck growing up a criminal, was one of the few warlords that reigned over the Outer Banks. His territory was primarily the outskirts of the region's metropolis, giving him first pick of travelers and their goods before they moved inwards. Once in the city, the influence of The Boss took over, and it was under him that all other warlords fell. Not even Lucky, with all his control over the so-called 'economy' of the Outer Banks, would put up a fight against The Boss.

That man, while never seen before except by his closest associates, was a ruthless killer and ruler. Any one who even preached against him in the streets was found the following day, their body mangled almost beyond recognition and their eyes cut out. It was The Boss's calling card. His own left eye had been cut out long ago in a fight…his initiation into a gang. And if he had to suffer, so did everyone else.

Lucky turned his attention back to Red, his eyes narrowing. "What happened to the traveler? Did you kill him?"

Red shook his head. "No. He left him out there for the Surgeons to pick over. He was sick or something like that. Throwing up blood and shit."

Lucky quirked an eyebrow. "What was he riding? Cocobo? Truck? Motorcycle?"

"Yea. A bike. Real nice one too."

Well, maybe some good could come of this. "Where is it?" Lucky asked, heaving his body up, "I want to see it and evaluate it myself."

Red quickly moved in front of Lucky, his hands up. "Believe me, Lucky, it's a good piece of equipment. Custom made and fast as hell!" He nodded at the smallest rider. "We could barely control the damn thing and not go flying off. And…" Red glanced over his shoulder, lowering his voice to a hoarse whisper. "…and the damn thing comes with _swords_!"

Lucky eyed Red like he was insane. "Swords?"

"Swords." Red nodded, his expression full of excitement. "Yea…I know. Friggin' crazy right? The thing's a real trip, Lucky, I know you'll like it."

Lucky was silent, continuing to stare at Red. Suddenly, his face contorted and he brought up a hand onto Red's face and gave a vicious shove. "Get out of my face, you moron!"

Red stumbled back, quickly returning to his spot with an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, Lucky. I forgot about your personal space."

"Damn right you did." Lucky growled, lowering his body back down. "Alright, Red. Take the bike around back and get it ready for the chop shop. I want it taken apart by the end of the night."

Another rider stepped forward, remaining a respective distance behind Red. "Excuse me, Lucky, but we won't be able to get to her until later this week…two days from now at the earliest. The shop is still doing the vehicles from the caravan last week."

Lucky frowned, folding his hands. "Is that a fact? Well, then why are you here, instead of getting everything ready to ship out?"

The rider retreated. "You're right, Lucky…my mistake. I'll get right on it!" He, and a few others darted from the room. Lucky looked around, his glare intensifying at the sight of the mulling riders surrounding him.

"Well?" he yelled angrily, "The rest of you can get the hell out to! Go on! Move it!" But before Red could move, Lucky stopped him. "Not you. You stay here."

The riders quickly scampered away, leaving Red and Lucky alone. Lucky stood up and came around the table, leading Red away with an arm around his shoulders. They walked for awhile until they came into a dark corner of the expansive warehouse room.

"Red," Lucky said calmly. "I need you to do me a favor. You said you left the traveler to die right? Did that happen to be at the cliff overpass? Yea? Well, I got word that Delevan is back in town, and I think he might have taken your little traveler friend."

Red blinked, looking over at Lucky. "What? How do you know that?"

"Because the Surgeons called me this morning and complained that we didn't leave them anything. Now, either the boy recovered, or someone took him. I'm thinking the latter."

"What do you want me to do, sir?"

Lucky removed his arm and turned to face Red. "The little bastard crossed the line this time. I can deal withDelevan scavenging what we leave behind, but when he takes something of mine that could really turn a profit…well, it simply pisses me off. Take a group out to his cave, you know where it's at, we all do. If you can, capture him alive and send him and the boy, if he hasn't died yet, to the Surgeons. Tell them it's a buy one, get one half-off deal."

Red chuckled. "I'm sure they'll like that."

Lucky laughed as well, his large eyes twinkling with mirth. "I know they will. They're bargain hunters and know a good deal when they hear one. Now get going. I want this done by tomorrow morning."

"You got it boss."

* * *

_Uh-oh. Sounds like Cloud's in a bit of a pickle. And a special thank you to my "anonymous reviewer" who left me that excellent review. Thanks so much! You encourage millions…or at least just one, and for some, that's enough. Please follow their example and review! Review like your lives depended on it!_


	5. Chapter 5

**_No Forgiveness_**

**_By: Wildfire Sky_**

_The next installment in this fic is now up (obviously) and here for your reading AND reviewing. _

_By the way, I was asked why I titled the fic, "No Forgiveness". In AC, Cloud states that he's seeking forgiveness from Aeries. In my **personal** interpretation, Cloud doesn't tell Tifa about the geostigma, because he's accepting it as his punishment for failing to protect those he cares for (if you notice, every time there's a reference to his geostigma, it also refers to his belief that he can't protect anyone). Since the geostigma (in my fic) is back…well, I'm not going to ruin the fic. It will all come out soon._

_**No Forgiveness**_

_**Chapter Five

* * *

**_

"Glad to see you're finally waking up."

Cloud opened his eyes to the dimming sunlight of dusk falling inside the spacious cave that belong to his strange host. Rolling his head to the side, Cloud spotted the man sitting next to a rekindled fire, polishing a long, twin barrel rifle. Delevan's eyes were lowered to the disassembled wood and metal weapon, his face tight with concentration as he picked up each individual piece and wiped it with calculated strokes. As he finished polishing each piece, he put it aside on a towel beside him. Delevan glanced up at Cloud as he removed the metallic barrel from its wooden base, inserting a long, thin brush into the opening to clean the inside.

"I suppose you've never seen one of these, have you?" Delevan asked, glancing at Cloud.

The blonde tried to shrug, but when his body still wouldn't respond he simply nodded his head. "I've seen a gun before."

Delevan smiled, starting to put the weapon back together. "Ah. But not a gun like this. This is an ancient hunting rifle…I found it on a dig long ago, near the Forgotten Capital. My father taught me how to make bullets, although fashioning these was difficult."

"You're a digger?"

"An archeologist, actually." Delevan put the completed rifle aside and reaching into his pack. "You certainly slept a long time, my young friend. All day you've been lying there, I once feared you for dead." He approached the jar from last night in his hands again. "Seeing as I haven't slit your throat while you slept, perhaps you'll extend me a bit more courtesy this time and let me help you?"

Cloud watched him warily. "I don't know who you are, I've never met you, and I'm paralyzed from the neck down…"

Delevan nodded. "I understand your distrust of the situation, but you have to understand, you're very sick right now. You've been coughing up blood all day. If I hadn't moved your head, you would have drowned in your own fluids." He unscrewed the jar. "Please, my friend, I swear to you I won't harm you. And I honor my word. This medicine will return to you the functioning of your body."

Cloud considered him. He could either remain paralyzed, and end up lying here for all eternity, or he could take the medicine and hope it wasn't poisonous. Either way, if this Delevan wanted to kill him, it wouldn't be hard. Weighing the risks, Cloud slowly nodded, opening his mouth. With an approving smile, Delevan tipped the edge of the jar inside Cloud's mouth, carefully allowing a thin stream of the thick brown liquid to sludge over the side and down Cloud's throat. As the medicine hit the back of his throat, Cloud began to gag, his reflexes instantaneous.

"Easy, boy, easy!" Delevan mumbled, placing a stilling hand on Cloud's chest. "Just swallow it slowly…take your time."

Cloud quickly closed his mouth and, squeezing his eyes shut, slowly forcing the thick matter down his throat. As soon as it passed, Cloud opened his mouth again, gasping for air. Delevan sat back with a short nod.

"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Cloud smacked his lips, his eyes beginning to water. "Dis…gusting…"

A loud bark of a laugh erupted from Delevan's mouth as he stood. "Yes. It is quite disgusting, isn't it? Made from the stingers and fangs of snakes, scorpions, and a few other unpleasant things."

Cloud's brow furrowed in disgust. "Scorpions?"

"You don't like bugs?"

"I hate bugs." Cloud growled, closing his eyes to quell the rising nausea in his chest. "I could have done without those details."

"What?" Delevan laughed again, sitting with his back to the fire, "And let me miss out at the expression on your face? I don't think so." He replaced the medicine and turned his full attention to Cloud. "By the way, I don't believe I caught your name."

"I never gave it."

Delevan frowned at the defensive tone in his voice, his posture stiffening in his own defense. "My apologies. I didn't mean to offend you, my friend…or is calling you 'friend' offensive as well?"

Cloud looked back over at Delevan. The man looked genuinely put off, his eyes narrowed in consideration. He truly was wondering if Cloud was offended. Sighing, Cloud looked back up at the ceiling. "Cloud Strife."

His face turned, Cloud never saw Delevan's body give a small jerk. "Cloud Strife, is it? Well, mister Strife---"

"Cloud is fine."

"Alright…" Delevan smiled, "Well, Cloud, I'm pleased to meet your acquaintance. I only wish it could have been under better circumstances. May I ask what you were doing in the Outer Banks…and without an arsenal of weapons?"

Cloud moved his head in an attempt to shrug. "I run a delivery service. I had a package to deliver to an address in the Outer Banks…"

Delevan quirked an eyebrow. "A legitimate business, I hope?"

"Yea," Cloud answered, his voice offended. "Why would you think it wasn't?"

The older man shrugged one shoulder. "Because nothing in the Outer Banks is. You should have known, especially if you keep up with the news, that this area of the world is off limits to those in the civilized environments who wish to live legal lives. Only outcasts and vagabonds risk trying to assimilate with this backwards society." Delevan nodded towards the cave entrance. "Out there is a city full of people who would slit your throat just for looking at them wrong. But despite their barbaric tendencies, the Outer Banks is more--how should I say this--_organized_ than other societies."

"There's nothing organized about a city of murderers."

"On the contrary," Delevan said, "It's very organized. Successful crime requires planning, wits, and cunningness. Without those, you'll ultimately fail. Every criminal here has those same features…as well as a code that runs amongst them. To break the code is to dishonor your criminal nature."

Cloud stared at Delevan as though the man were crazy. "A code…for crime?"

Delevan nodded, a conspiratory smile on his features. "Oh yes. Actually, it's called the Code of Thieves, but extends to all aspects of the criminal world. In a nutshell, the criminals are loyal to their family and their leaders. To betray either is to submit yourself to a very terrible death. They will never turn in another criminal, nor will they ever refuse one 'sanctuary' should they call for it. Save for the untouchables."

"Untouchables." Cloud was skeptical.

"Rapists, child molesters, and those disloyal to the Code." Delevan quickly explained. "They are killed as soon as they are discovered. No mercy."

Cloud looked back up at the ceiling, his face tight with concentration. "Understandable…"

Delevan didn't answer immediately, instead studied the immobile Cloud from his position by the fire. Finally, Delevan stood, straightening his desert cloak about his broad shoulders. "The medicine will take effect after a few moments and you should get your mobility back soon after. And I highly suggest you don't leave…not until you're better."

"What's wrong with me?" Cloud's eyes were piercing. "Is it the geostigma?"

There was another short pause and Delevan turned away. "Honestly…I don't know."

* * *

Red cut the engine to his very impressive prize, running an appreciatory look over the sleek, polished metal of Fenrir. He was right about his assumptions of this bike; it was definitely a one-of-a-kind catch and something that should be cherished. Behind him, the dull roar of his partners echoed against the cliffs that jutted up on either side of them forming a massive canyon that cut through the middle of the Outer Banks region. Fenrir had left them both behind, his partners actually calling for him to slow down. But Red had been captured by the pure, unleashed power that the bike held, cutting through the air like a hot knife. This was definitely his bike now.

The other two riders finally slowed their bikes next to his, the shorter one lifting the visor to his full-coverage helmet and throwing Red a baleful glare. "I guess waiting for us was too much, huh?"

Red smirked behind his own visor, turning towards the speaker. "If you can't keep up, go home and bitch to Lucky."

The other two riders looked at each other.

"That's what I thought." Red dismounted his bike and looked up the towering cliff-face. A long, wide slope fell down one side of the cliff, leading to the opening of an expansive cave. In the dark of night, the light from the fire inside could be as easily seen as a lighthouse beacon. Delevan's residence. Red had often driven by here, usually on a raid for Lucky, and every time he drove by, Delevan would be standing outside on the ledge that jutted nearly seven feet from the cave mouth, hunting rifle in hand. Red hated him.

Slinging his automatic rifle, Red removed his helmet and adjusted his black and red riding outfit. Lucky's colors. Each major gang in the Outer Banks had their own colors, a way for each gang to distinguish between each other and identify the loaners. Motioning with his head, Red unslung his weapon, checking the clip inside and switching off the safety.

"As soon as you see the kid, blast him." Red said in a low voice as they walked towards the slope. "The Surgeons won't care if he's dead or alive, as long as they've got a body."

Shorty raised an eyebrow. "What about Delevan?"

"You leave him to me." Red's grip on his rifle tightened, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "I want to put two bullets in his head myself."

* * *

Cloud was just beginning to get feeling back into his arms when the small snake hunter, Tenki, darted into the cave, immediately going for Delevan and shooting up his body to his usual station on Delevan's shoulder. Once again, Tenki had the still twitching body of another reptile within his jaws. The lizard stared at Cloud with its beady black eyes, chewing absently on his meal. Cloud looked away as Tenki tore into his meal, bits of flesh and blood falling to the ground.

Delevan stood up, moving over to where his small pot was suspended over the fire. Two wooden bowls in his hand, he ladled a bit of the pot's contents into the bowls and walked back over to Cloud, crouching down in front of him.

"Do you think you'll be able to sit up?" Delevan asked, "You need to eat something, and I'm afraid you might choke."

Grunting, Cloud nodded his head. It was time to prove to this old man that he didn't need to be coddled. Using his still weak arms, Cloud pushed his body against the cave wall, using it as a brace so he could lift his body up. It was a long process that left Cloud exhausted, but as soon as he was facing Delevan, his body upright, a triumphant smirk crossed his face. A curious look on Delevan's face, he passed Cloud the bowl.

"Impressive." He complimented with a smile. "Very impressive. Don't push it though, your limbs are very weak and if you do too much, you'll break them. Give yourself another day of rest and then you should be ready to leave."

Cloud shook his head immediately. "I can't stay here that long. As soon as I can move my legs, I'm leaving."

"I don't think that's such a good idea…"

"I have to get home." Cloud stated firmly, his intense look leaving no room for argument. "I made a promise and I'm keeping it."

Delevan shrugged, knowing that any argument with the boy would only make his resolve stronger. "Very well. I understand." He lowered his eyes, his voice soft. "I completely understand…"

Cloud glanced in Delevan's direction, his eyebrows furrowing as he continued to exercise his moveable limbs. The tension in the room had suddenly spiked, so much that neither could deny its presence. Even Tenki had slowed his chewing, his black eyes on Delevan's down turned face. And for some reason, Cloud felt he was at fault.

Clearing his throat, Cloud looked away. "I…I'm sorry…if I said something that offended you, sir." He glanced momentarily at Delevan, looking for a reaction.

The old hunter's eyes were still on the ground, but he shrugged one shoulder half-heartedly. "It's no matter. I try not to dwell too much on past events…no matter how pleasing, or devastating, they are." He felt silent again, staring at the ground. On his shoulder, Tenki shifted his food from his mouth to claws, leaning over to nuzzle the side of Delevan's face.

Cloud continued to watch him, trying to judge his strange reaction. "Mind if I ask what happened?" It seemed like the proper thing to say, he'd asked Tifa what was wrong many times before and, most of the time, she would pour out her pains to him. He didn't see why Delevan would be any different.

The older man looked up, a smile cracking beneath his kept goatee. "Actually, my young friend…I do mind." Reaching across his shoulder, he gave the nuzzling Tenki a reassuring scratch and stood. "Your arms will eventually regain their strength; I suggest you work on…"

Delevan suddenly fell silent, his eyes narrowing as he looked towards the door. Instantly, Cloud's body tensed, his instincts firing off like rockets. He could feel a change in the air. The normal desert sounds of night insects was gone. The landscape was totally silent. He shot a look in Delevan's direction, reading his body stance like a book…defensive. He stiffened even further as the quiet sound of shifting rocks reached their ears.

Quickly, yet silently, Delevan turned on his heel, heading straight for his hunting rifle. Slinging it over his back, Delevan bent to pick up Cloud's sword and looked in his direction. No words were needed. He tossed it in Cloud's direction, the ex-SOLIDER catching it with both hands. Biting his lip, Cloud choked back a grunt of pain from the fire that shot up his side. Definitely not healed yet.

Delevan barely paused in his actions as he picked up a bucket from a corner of the cave and tossed its contents on the fire, instantly putting it out. He then moved further back into a section of the cave opposite Cloud, the soft click of a clip sliding home the only sound he made. Cloud tightened his grip on his sword, shifting his body so he was parallel to the cave entrance and therefore a smaller target. Being the closest to the mouth of the cave, should the intruders glance in his direction, he'd be immediately spotted. And in his current state, fending off a group of fighters would be more than difficult.

Cloud shifted slightly, trying to hurry feeling back into his legs.

There was another sound outside and Cloud's eyes flicked towards the star lit opening, narrowing slightly in an attempt to peer through the darkness. There, just barely off to one side, a shadowy form stuck their head around the edge of the cave opening before ducking back. A sound of hurried voices and then silence again.

It seemed to stretch for hours, although only a few moments passed. Every living soul in the area was holding their breath, each side waiting for the other to move. Silently, Cloud gave bitter thanks to the officers who trained him as a child. He hated to admit it, but that training had saved him on more than one occasion and provided the patience that was now being tested. He would not move, at least not until they moved first.

A weight landed on him, and Cloud had to steel his body to prevent it from jerking away and possibly revealing his position. He felt something long and wet slide over his hand and it took Cloud only a moment to recognize the slight weight of Tenki. The little creature had darted forward, attempting to gain on the cave entrance, and happened over Cloud's exposed hand. Taking a mere moment to reassure the young man, Tenki continued forward, his long, thin body snaking over the cave floor and disappearing from even Cloud's heightened vision.

"I don't see anyone, Red…"

Cloud's eyes snapped up as a nervous voice whispered and another answered.

"Well, it's dark, you idiot."

And a third.

"Do you think they left?"

"How? There's only one exit, morons, and we're standin' at it!"

"You don't have to call us morons, Red."

"Yes I do! And shut the hell up before you give away our position."

"You're the one who's yelling…"

_Snap!_

"Ow! What was that for?"

Cloud shook his head. These guys were _all_ morons. To give away their position like that…obviously they hadn't done this kind of work before or at least dealt with people just as incompetent as they were. He could have taken them down completely blinded with as much noise as they were making.

The second voice, Red, spoke again. "Check it out, Shorty, and report back to me."

"Like hell I will…"

"_Now!_"

There was a sigh and a shadowed figure slowly made their way around the cave entrance, the polished metal of a weapon reflecting the limited moonlight. They were true amateurs. Any second-rate soldier knew that you rubbed down your weapon with some sort of anti-reflectant to keep it from reflecting whatever light there was. Their attackers probably grabbed their weapons and marched out the door without a second thought. A foolish, and deadly, mistake. Delevan patiently waited as the figure cautiously came through the cave entrance.

Checking his weapon, Delevan slowly lifted the rifle and closed one eye in aim.

* * *

Red sat down on the ground outside the cave entrance, waiting for Shorty to return from his exploration of Delevan's cave. Reaching inside his pant pocket, his removed a half-lit cigarette, bringing it to his lips and lighting the end and taking a slow pull. He expelled the smoke into the air with a sigh, watching the faint wisps of smoke lift into the air before dispersing into nothing. He hated doing Lucky's dirty work…the slob never wanted to get his hands dirty, even in a town where any form of law enforcement was bought and paid for. It was beyond pathetic in Red's mind…

Red took another drag, his eyes closing in pleasure at the smooth feeling in his chest. He needed this time to relax…to be away from that over bearing, lack-luster leader of his. Once he was finished here, he had an appointment with another gang leader, one he hoped would be more beneficial than Lucky was.

Red noticed the other rider looking at him, a man nearly four years his senior but completely subordinate. Curling his lip up in a snarl, Red hissed at him in annoyance. "What the hell do you want?"

The rider nodded to the cigarette clasped between Red's fingers. "Do you have any more?"

"Not for you I don't…" Red replied with a sinister smirk, taking a deliberate pull and blowing the smoke at the rider. The other man frowned at Red before turning away with a huff. "Come on!" Red laughed quietly, "I'm just joking around with you. Don't be such a baby."

The rider mumbled something that sounded distinctly like: 'Maybe you shouldn't be such an ass'. Red snapped a venomous glare in the rider's direction.

"Care to repeat that?"

The rider flinched, sending a cautious glance over in Red's direction, trying to figure a safe way out of this. As he was contemplating which would be the fastest route over the cliffs and to safety, when their partner, Shorty, reappeared just outside of the cave entrance. Red was on his feet, arms crossed impatiently as he waited for Shorty to speak.

"Well?" he whispered. "What did you see?"

Shorty shook his head in confusion. "I don't understand, boss. I didn't see any---"

Red jerked back in horror as Shorty's entire chest exploded in an angry, bloody spray.

* * *

Tifa sat in the now empty bar, looking out of the darkened window towards the lights of Midgard. Even with the declining status of Midgard's economy -- well, the economy of Edge in general -- it seemed that every night there was some party going on in the streets and buildings of the expansive city. Looking out of the window, aided by the streetlamp just outside, Tifa could see small groups of partiers strolling down the sidewalk, some aided by their friends, other staggering along on their own. Tonight, a special party was happening.

Shin-ra was open for business. That was the word on the streets this morning, and this evening it was confirmed. On the morrow, hundreds of men, and some women, would be leaving the inner city and traveling nearly two hours outside of the safety of their homes in order to begin building what would become the new headquarters of the Shin-ra Company, a project that would take at least a year to fully complete, even with the staggering amount of workers. Beyond that, there were many other construction projects lined up that would keep both Shin-ra and the people of Midgard busy for years to come.

It could be considered a good thing to most, but to Tifa and those who knew what Rufus was capable of, it seemed like Shin-ra was moving right back into power. Even the Turks it seemed were gearing up for the rebirth of the Company, Tifa had seen Reno in town earlier that morning, but avoided him rather than talk to him. She would deal with Reno and the Turks once Cloud got back.

_Cloud…_

Although it was just over a week, it seemed like Cloud had been gone for months. Maybe because his promise of being back sooner than two weeks was looking to be shattered. Like many of his other promises. Tifa glanced down at the financial papers in front of her, noting the slight increase in her expenses over the last few weeks…the weeks Cloud had graced them all with his presence. It wasn't that Tifa minded he'd decided to stay -- after all, his church haven was currently overrun with those sick from geostigma -- but that it felt like he was only using her as a temporary reprieve. Once everyone had been cured, or died, he would most likely go back to Aeries' church and leave her here to worry.

It wasn't fair at all.

"Tifa?"

The young barmaid jerked in surprise before turning down to look at the tiny Marlene. She'd been so enwrapped in her thoughts that she hadn't heard the young one approach. Putting on a mock-stern face, Tifa glared playfully. "Shouldn't you been in bed, young lady? Don't make me have to put you to sleep again." Tifa usually had to threaten and cajole Marlene and Denzel in to bed, and even then she almost always ended up physically carrying one of the two rascals.

But Marlene wasn't fooled. She put on her own stern face and stared at Tifa square in the eyes. "Where's Cloud?"

Talk about brief and to the point. Tifa winced inwardly, silently regretting having mentioned Cloud's promise. They'd all been so distressed over the sudden departure that Tifa had said anything she could in order to calm the two youngsters. Marlene had been satisfied and gone to bed, but Denzel…

Tifa shook her head, trying to clear the distressing thoughts. "Cloud will be back soon. I promise."

"You said that yesterday."

"One day isn't 'soon', Marlene." Tifa refuted, preparing herself for an all out battle. Marlene was one of the best debaters Tifa had ever known. Given enough facts, and oxygen, Marlene could force an accredited, professional scientist to agree that the sky was actually green, not blue. Arguing with her was a nightmare.

Marlene stood before her, gripping a small blanket in her hands, the ends of it trailing after her. Tifa recognized it…Cloud had brought it back from one of his many adventures as a gift for the small child. Instantly, Marlene had fallen in love with the plush, simple comfort, hugging it tight against her body and then rushing upstairs to show Denzel and put it on her bed. Cloud had an almost proud look on his face when Marlene left, the soft, excited voices of the children muffled by the wood before Denzel came rushing back down and forced a promise from Cloud to stay for dinner. Cloud had agreed, much to the pleasure of all who stood there.

Two days later, Denzel was diagnosed with geostigma.

Marlene squared her shoulders, her bottom lip jutting out in a small pout. "You always trick me."

"Or maybe you always allow _yourself_ to be tricked." Tifa retorted with a smooth wink. "Besides, when has Cloud ever broken his promise?"

The child bit her lip in thought, her head tilting slightly before she conceded. "Never." Marlene lowered her eyes, her cheeks flushing. "But you always say there's a first time for everything."

Tifa froze, her eyes widening ever so slightly as she stared down at the young Marlene. _Of all the times for her to actually be listening to me…_Tifa made a quick mental note to weigh all of the repercussions of her lectures before giving them. For some reason, they had a vicious way of coming back to haunt her. Falling to her knees, Tifa slowly reached out, gathering Marlene into her arms and pulling her close.

"Don't ever doubt him, Marlene…" Tifa whispered, stroking the girl's soft, dark strands. "Don't ever think Cloud won't come through for you, me, or even Denzel. He loves us too much for that." Tifa pulled back, holding Marlene from her body. "Right?"

"How do you know he loves us?" Marlene asked innocently, tears starting to form in the corners of her eyes. "If he did, he wouldn't leave us so much!"

Tifa winced inwardly. It was starting all over again…the withdrawals, the explanations. _Damn it, Cloud…_"Doesn't your daddy leave all of the time?" Tifa questioned with a knowing smile. "He still loves you even though he's not always around either."

"But Daddy calls me. Almost every day!" the tears began to slip. "Cloud never calls us…not even you, Tifa, and he has a crush on you!"

Quickly, Tifa reached out, wiping away the tears with her fingers and trying to hide her embarrassment. "That maybe true, but he can't always call. Just like your daddy can't always call."

"But he at least _tries_!"

Tifa sighed again. This was going nowhere fast. Putting a hand on Marlene's shoulder, she leaned forward to plant a soft kiss on the child's cheek before giving a slight push towards to stairwell. That was enough for the night. If they continued, Marlene would be too upset to sleep. "Go to bed, Marlene. We'll talk again in the morning, alright?"

The child was unsatisfied, but she grudgingly obeyed, climbing the stairs and disappearing into the darkness above. Tifa remained kneeling for a few more moments, lost in her own thoughts. Shaking her head, Tifa stood up, brushing the few specks of dust from her dark clothing.

"I suppose children can be quite troubling."

Tifa bit back a scream of surprise, stumbling away from the voice and nearly toppling over the table. A hand flew out, catching her arm and steadying her before she could fall. With a vicious jerk, Tifa flipped away, her fighting gloves on and at the ready before she even came to a full stop. Dark eyes narrowed, Tifa sought out her assailant, spotting the pale face and red eyes near the open doorway. Her breath caught in her throat, halting her rapid, adrenaline fueled breathing.

_Alavar…_

The man was bathed in the light from the streetlamp, an apologetic smile on his face. He stood there in his traveling clothes, a long, heavy looking sack dangling from one hand, his other still outstretched from his attempt to steady her. Alavar quickly dropped his sack at the sight of Tifa's offensive stance, holding up both hands in surrender.

"I'm sor---"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Tifa demanded, cutting off Alavar before he could apologize. You don't apologize for breaking into someone's home. You get the hell out.

Alavar blinked, his eyes darting around in the darkness. "Tifa, please…I meant no harm. Really."

"Then leave."

"I can't." Alavar lowered his hands, his face somber. "For your own safety, I cannot leave."

Tifa's eyes narrowed even further at these words. Were they a threat or a warning? Alavar's face seemed sincerely concerned about her, but looks could most certainly be deceiving. "Why not? We're in no danger here." Any threats to her life had been done away with long ago. No geostigma…no Kadaj…no nothing. What could possibly endanger her…

"Tifa. Barren is dead." The words were stated with such harshness that all of the air from Tifa's lungs seemed to whoosh out, leaving her gasping. Alavar's eyes had taken on a distant look, not really seeing her or anything around her. "I'm sorry."

Tifa shook her head, disbelieving. The suddenness of the proclamation was so shocking, so unexpected. "But…but Artese…"

"Tifa." Alavar's voice was firm as he took a step forward, finally staring directly into her eyes. "He dead. The geostigma finished him off before the doctors could do anything…_if_ they could do anything.

Tifa couldn't believe what she was hearing. There was something very wrong with this. Alavar took another step forward, unrelenting.

"There's more, Tifa. The reason why I simply can't leave you and the children here alone." He took another look around, searching the shadows for something, as he spoke. "It seems that Doctor Artese and those assisting him with Barren have been murdered."

"_What?_"

Alavar flinched, hating every moment of these. "I went in to see Barren earlier, but when I found out he died, I went in search of Artese for an explanation…I found him dead in his office, shot in the head. The nurses were also there…" he took a deep, shuddering breath. "Their throats were cut."

Tifa lowered her hands, shock rocking her already tired body. "What are you saying, Alavar?"

The pale man stiffened, his own eyes narrowed. "I'm saying some one wants anyone who came into contact with Barren _dead_. And Tifa," he reached out, gripping her shoulders. "That means you too."

* * *

_Please remember to read and review like a good reader should! And a small note to those of you who've been panicking about the death of Barrett. That's a mistake on my part. Barren and Barrett are **not** the same people. I wasn't thinking very rationally when I decided on the name Barren for an OC, not realizing that it was so close to the spelling of Barrett. Sorry for the inconvenience, I'll keep that in mind next time._


	6. Chapter 6

_**No Forgiveness**_

_**By: Wildfire Sky**_

_Welcome to chapter 6 of "No Forgiveness". Please keep all hands inside the moving vehicle as we will be passing over cliffhangers and the occasional confusing twists. No photography is allowed, however, we will be glad to provide you with plenty of pleasing memories to take home with you. Thank you and enjoy your ride._

_**No Forgiveness**_

_**Chapter Six**_

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_

"Excuse me, Colonel, but you have a call on line two." A voice broke into the soldier's already waning thoughts. The large black man looked up from the stack of papers in front of him, silently welcoming the interruption from the monogamous reading he'd undertaken, his study of numerous charts and reports all relating to the current, tragic situation. Although Tyrell had many other, some more pressing, issues to attend to, the release of the geostigma had suddenly taken center stage in his theatre of thoughts and remained in the limelight. After sicing his scientists on a search for the cure, Tyrell had been swamped with results, each more dire than the last.

Waving a dismissive hand at his secretary, Tyrell stood and stretched, reaching out with one hand to press the speaker button on his desk phone. "Tyrell here."

_"Good morning, sir. I hope I haven't interrupted your work."_ The voice was scratchy, even over the static free phone line. It was one of Tyrell's many scientists, indeed one of his most trusted, that he'd assigned to the geostigma case. This one was the most important to everything.

"Not at all, doctor. I was just about to call you." Tyrell reached into the pocket of his coat, pulling out a thin cigarette. "How are things coming along on your end?"

_"As well as can be expected."_

"That's not saying much." Tyrell glanced at his desk, searching for his ever present box of matches that had suddenly gone missing. "I certainly hope this isn't a call to tell me you've given up the search. That would be extremely disappointing." Reaching across his desk, he opened one of the drawers, searching blindly with his hand. He gave out a triumphant grunt as his fingers brushed against the familiar, small box. "Now what can I do for you? More funding…more test subjects…"

Tyrell lit the match, bringing it to the end of his smoke.

"Sir." The voice replied softly. "I found it."

The burning match froze, the flame barely licking the end of the cigarette. Tyrell stared out into the surrounding darkness of his office, his entire being still from shock. It was…impossible. With an expert flick of his hand, Tyrell put out the match and pulled the cigarette from his mouth. Turning, he glared at his phone suspiciously.

"You're joking."

There was a cold laugh. _"Sir, my profession has no room for jokes. I promise you, Colonel Tyrell, I've found the very thing you've been searching for."_

Tyrell shook his head, coming back around his desk and leaning over it. "If what you say is true…"

_"Then I've accomplished the impossible."_

"Nothing's impossible." Tyrell grated, his irritation flaring. "Just tell me how you engineered it."

The scientist sighed. _"That's the tricky part, sir. It's been in existence, from my calculations at least, for hundreds of years. Since before Meteor."_

Tyrell slowly sat back in his chair, trying to absorb all of this new information. "So why has it taken us this long to find it? We were searching for the cure since geostigma first appeared. What is it from? Where is it harbored?"

_"I think…" _The scientist paused, seemingly unsure. _"I know this is going to sound crazy, Colonel, but I think the planet was hiding it."_

Tyrell jerked. "Come again?"

_"I think this planet purposely hid the cure from us. It might seem ridiculous, but think about it…the planet used the Lifestream to defeat Meteor…it gave us the holy water to cure the first geostigma out break." _There was another short pause. _"Perhaps we should tread more carefully around such an intelligent world as ours."_

For a moment, Tyrell back to wonder why he even bothered with such moronic men and their equally absurd theories.

"Don't get paranoid, doctor. You're probably over analyzing this." Tyrell reassured him. A flashing light on his phone caught his attention, disbanding Tyrell from the conversation. There was only one direct line into his office, and very few people among his organization knew it. "I'll have to get back to you on this, doctor. Send me a sample of the apparent cure and I'll have it analyzed here as well."

_"You don't trust my judgment?"_

Tyrell smirked. "Take it as you will." He hung up on the doctor, pressing the switch next to the light and waiting impatiently as the phone clicked over. "Tyrell."

_"Sir, there's a slight problem at home."_

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Red jerked his entire body back as Shorty's chest erupted in an angry, red spray, bones and thicker matter splashing across the ground. The rider's body stumbled forward, a soft gasp escaping from dying lips, eyes lifting to Red's face. For a moment, he seemed suspended in time, hands lifted to the gaping hole in his chest, before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he silently fell from the narrow ledge. Red started at the falling body in horror, his mind unable to register the hollow thump of a body hitting the ground far below. His entire frame was frozen in shock. He lifted a shaking hand to his face, peeling a piece of mangled flesh from his chin.

"_Holy hell!_"

Those two words brought everything back into perspective. Red blinked his eyes, glancing about and trying to gather himself. The faint click was all the warning Red had before the loud retort echoed through the valley. He managed to throw himself to the ground as the bullet grazed the top of his head, cutting through hair rather than flesh. His severed strands had barely settled before Red was crawling back, his body slithering on the ground, until he was away from the cave opening. Chest heaving, Red glancing over at the terrified looking rider. Even in the shallow darkness, it was easy to make out the man's wide, white eyes, the orbs reflecting in the moonlight.

"What do we do now, Red?"

The thief leader frowned slightly, glancing at the cave entrance. That was a damn good question. He heard another faint click and held his breath, listening carefully for any movement from within. Nothing. Red cursed silently…Delevan was one smart bastard. How could he get inside the cave without being detected by Delevan or, more importantly, shot? Red's eyes slid over to the hyperventilating young rider next to him. And then, it hit him.

"Alright." Red whispered, wiping more blood from his face and smiling. "This is what we're going to do." He grabbed the front of the rider's jacket, and the young boy's eyes flicked up to his face fearfully. "If you move, you're dead, got it?" _Well…actually, you're dead either way…_

Jerking the boy in front of him, Red moved to the front of the cave. He charged the entrance, ducking down behind the screaming rider as he ran, forcing them both forward. He heard the loud clap of the rifle firing, the rider's body jerking violently as his screams were cut off. Ignoring the blood that poured from the limp body, Red shoved the rider forward as he rolled to one side, slipping into the darkness of the cave and holding his breath. The rider's crumpled body was bathed in moonlight, his down turned, blown off face visible in the reflection of the spreading crimson pool. The one remaining eye stared at Red accusingly, blank and yet all seeing.

Red gave a small shudder and looked away. Sacrifice was necessary in this line of work…especially of the weak. Slumping slightly against the cave wall, Red slowly and quietly made his way deeper into the expansive hole in the cliff, his hand reaching inside his jacket to remove the pistol stored there. It was unfortunate, but it seemed like he would be killing Delevan without help…and for some reason, that filled Red with satisfaction. Switching off the safety to his weapon, Red waited for some sound to give away Delevan's or the boy's position. Being a member of one of the many para-military forces that had encompassed Edge in the past certainly had its uses, patience being one of them.

Something glinted in the darkness and Red swung his arm, the shot going off before he'd even sighted. The glowing objects darted off in one direction, the bullet pinging harmlessly off the cave wall. Swearing, Red threw himself to one side, rolling as another deadly bullet implanted itself in the spot where he'd just been. Pausing just long enough to see the thin body of a lizard dart into the darkness, Red rolled and scampered to a new position, wedging himself behind a thick pillar of rock. The flash from his gun may have given away his position, but the flash from the return had given away Delevan's.

"Give it up old man!" Red called, his voice bouncing from the cave walls and making it nearly impossible to track him. "Lucky is pissed and you know that means you're going to die one way or another!" He quickly rolled around the pillar, crouching as he dashed deeper into the cave.

Delevan was slow to answer, his voice only high enough for Red to barely catch. "Pretty heartless of you to kill one of your own, don't you think?"

Red smirked. "There's no honor amongst the criminal, Delevan. You should know that as well as I do."

There was another pregnant pause before Delevan's rough voice bounced back to his ears. "Don't associate me with your kind, thief. You and Lucky are the worse of criminals. Dishonorable even to your own code! If the Boss knew of your treachery…"

"He won't." Red assured mostly himself with that statement. He knew all too well the consequences of betraying such an ancient - and in his personal opinion, foolish - code. He'd seen the bodies on display in the streets, hanging from lampposts and streetlights, bloody signs around their broken and mutilated bodies. It was the only law and order the Outer Banks needed. "The Boss isn't even here right now; he's gone, leaving the Outer Banks to us commoners for a while. His law no longer applies at the moment."

There was a resounding click, causing Red to flinch involuntarily. He began moving again, his eyes locked on the area where he saw the flash from Delevan's rifle, his ears catching every miniscule sound. Perhaps it was because of this extreme concentration, or maybe it was simply back luck, but as Red cautiously moved, he never took notice of the sharp, mako-blue eyes watching his every movement. As Red stepped closer and closer to his position, Cloud's grip tightened on his weapon, slowly lifting it.

The glint of steel drew Red's eyes and he blinked, uncomprehending what he was seeing. He barely had to time scream before the massive butt of the weapon came slamming down on his head, laying him flat. He gave out a small groan of pain, barely comprehending the slick feel of blood sliding down his face before darkness swept over him.

Delevan stepped out from the shadows and into the moonlight, staring down at Red's spread eagled body. He slung his rifle over one shoulder, kneeling down to turn Red's body over and examine the wound. He let out a low whistle, glancing at Cloud with a hint of admiration. "You certainly can swing that thing, can't you? Any harder and you would have shattered the poor man's skull."

"Would have been the least he deserved."

"Perhaps," Delevan shrugged, "but then again, we're not murderers, are we? No need to stoop to their level in order to solve our own problems."

Cloud stared at him, not bothering to answer. Instead he lowered his buster sword and put one hand against the stone wall of the cave, starting to heave his body up. Delevan merely watched curiously, not extending any offers of help, for which Cloud was thankful. He didn't want to be babied through this. The old man had assisted him enough. Turning and pressing his back to the wall, Cloud took a deep breath and prepared himself to step away. Hopefully his legs would hold him. Cautiously, slowly, he stepped out. His foot landed firmly, albeit with some shaking, but held his weight none the less. He stood there for a moment, staring down at his feet.

"Wonderful." Delevan said with a smile, "The paralysis has worn off and it appears the medicine worked. I'd hoped it would."

Cloud looked up at him. "Hoped?"

"I'm not a doctor."

Cloud opened his mouth to reply, angry that the explorer had forced him to eat something he wasn't sure would work. But he was stopped. It felt as though someone had driven a knife into his stomach and was slowly twisting it, pushing it in deeper and deeper. He gasped, eyes wide as he bent over, trying to suck in air.

"Cloud!"

He barely heard Delevan's strained voice. He felt his body keel over and he threw out a hand blindly to catch himself, eyes clenched shut against the waves of pain that seemed to spread from his stomach and across his chest. He wanted to swear, loudly and harshly, in an attempt to alleviate some of the pain, but his throat seemed to have closed up, his efforts for words only ragged hisses and gasps. He felt as though his body was collapsing in on itself, tearing him apart from within.

He fell forward, a feeling of weightlessness taking him for an instant, the sound of rushing air reaching his ears. Suddenly, his body was wrapped in something strong and firm, halting his fall with an almost bone-jarring efficiency. Cloud opened his mouth, if only to hack out a dribble of blood, his hands reaching up to clutch at his brace as he continued to ride the pain consuming him.

He heaved in air as the ache began to subside, eventually numbing enough to where he could actually think again. Realizing he was still slumped in Delevan's arms, he gave a small shrug, silently signaling the man to release him. Reluctantly, Delevan obeyed, stepping away from Cloud while still keeping a steady eye on him. Cloud leaned back against the cave wall, his head back as he breathed deep.

"The medicine worked?" he asked, his tone accusing.

Delevan shifted, his arms crossing. "You should be thanking me, not criticizing. Had I not given you the initial treatment, you probably would have died in the night. Mind you, that's another of my 'uneducated' opinions."

Cloud opened one eye in a glare. "You seem to have a lot of those."

"Opinions are better than nothing. I suggest you learn to trust my judgment." Delevan took Cloud's arm, ignoring the young man's feeble attempts to escape; "Now we need to do something with our friend here." He motioned with his head to the unconscious Red, "For the moment, we'll tie him up until we can get you taken care of. Come over to the fire pit and let's get you warm."

Cloud didn't have the energy to resist. Delevan carefully led him towards the remaining embers of the fire, stoking them and adding more fuel until a tiny flame came to life. He added more grass and wood and eventually grew so it warmed the entire cave. Although he didn't admit it, Cloud was thankful for the warmth. He sat down next to the fire, accepting the blanket Delevan handed to him.

The older man moved back over to where Red laid, rope in hand. Cloud stared into the fire, barely acknowledging Tenki as the tiny reptile crawled into his lap, his thoughts too deep. The aching was there, dull, but there…a familiar throbbing that had consumed him those months ago when the geostigma first attacked his system. His hand came up, subconsciously gripping his left arm. He knew the scars were still there. Not even the so called 'holy water' could make them fade completely. But it wasn't the scars that captured his thoughts, it was the pain itself, spreading through his body like fire. It was at that time, so long ago, that he felt this same pain he was feeling now.

He knew it was the geostigma. There was no doubt about it. The only question was: why was it so much more potent than before? It was this question he pondered as Delevan returned with Red slung over one shoulder like a sack. He ungraciously dumped him to the ground, stepping over the splayed body and circling around the fire until he stood opposite Cloud, looking at him from across the fire. His eyes were stern and face tight.

"I won't lie to you, Cloud, when I say we're in a dangerous situation. Lucky sent his men over here at the bidding of The Boss, and that means that there are a lot of people looking for you…or rather _us_ at this point." Delevan crouched down, the fire shadowing his features, "When this sorry man and his friends don't return soon, Lucky will know something's up and that means a world of hurt. He'll send more, much more, to come for us and that means more running. Unfortunately, your sickness will make travel extremely difficult. A trip of a few hours could take half a day in your condition."

Cloud looked at him cautiously. "What do we do about it?"

Delevan sighed, bowing his head. "To be perfectly honest, you've put me in a bit of a dilemma. I'm used to simply packing my things and moving on when it's required of me. You're quite a burden on me…and I get rid of my burdens."

Cloud inhaled sharply against a flash of pain, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, he found Delevan staring at him with a hint of pity. A look Cloud was beginning to resent. "So, you're just going to leave me here? Sick and injured?"

"No," Delevan shook his head and stood, "I don't simply abandon people I trust. I told you that you've put me in a particular situation, and I'm unsure of how to handle it. Everything inside of me is telling me to leave you here, but then again, I can't do that. I dare say I have a conscious." Delevan smiled down at Cloud, "Get some rest for now, my friend. I'll keep a watch out from any more of our unfriendly neighbors."

Tenki leapt from Cloud's lap and scrambled up his master's shoulders as he walked from the cave and into the night, his rifle still on his shoulder. Cloud turned back to the dancing flames, allowing his body to soak in the soothing heat of it, ridding him of the sensation of pain, if only momentarily. He knew it would come back and knew it would be a problem. Just how the hell was he supposed to travel, when his every movement sent him reeling in pain?

_XXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Lucky sat at his wide, cluttered desk, his gaze shifting between the phone and the group of five men in front of him, each armed with an assault rifle and hard faces. His large fingers tapped impatiently on the smooth, wood surface, his teeth tight in his head from the anxiety building within him. Dawn was only an hour away, by his clock, and neither Red nor his companions had sent word of a completed mission. Which either meant the morons were dead or captured…Lucky suspected the former. Delevan was not a man to be trifled with.

"Alright." Lucky growled, standing, "I'm not waiting any longer, if Delevan did kill Red, then so be it, but I'll be damned if that traitorous bastard slips away again. Get out to the canyon and find out if Delevan is still alive. If his is, you know what to do…" Lucky paused, his eyes narrowing, "That fool, Red, took that bike too. I want it back, got it?"

The men nodded in confirmation and quickly departed to prepare their bikes for the short trip out to the canyon. One of the riders returned to Lucky's desk, nervously fingering his rifle, eyes on the ground. Lucky glanced up at the young killer, already irritated with his presence.

"Yes?"

"Excuse me, Lucky," the man said, "but you asked me to report to you if 'he' was returning to the Outer Banks."

Lucky stared at him, his round face drained of color. "He's…he's coming back? When?"

"I was told he'll be leaving this morning, sir. Which would put him here in a few days time." The soldier looked nervous, "Lucky, if he's really coming back…"

Lucky heaved his body up, pushing away from his table and pointed an angry finger at the young man. "I want this Delevan mess wrapped up as quickly as possible, understand? Any one who's not ready to leave by the time you get back will be left behind."

"We…we're _leaving_? But Lucky…"

"_Go!"_

Quickly obeying, the man scrambled back and ran over to where the other riders were mounting their bikes. With the loud roar of engines, the convoy departed from the warehouse, thundering down the back streets of the Outer Banks towards the surrounding desert. Lucky slumped back into his seat with a distressed sigh, his eyes closing. Things weren't good.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXX_

_Wow…did I get lazy or what? Not only was this update months behind, but its short! And it's not the best chapter I've written….Oh the humanity! Well, unfortunately, the news doesn't get any better. It's school time and college takes up a lot of my life now. Actually, I'm being consumed by it in a horrible attack of papers, exams, and high expectations. But please, try to bear with me._


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